


How Darwinian

by vague_enthusiast



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Character, Asexual Remus Lupin, Chronic Illness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Texting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2018-11-06 16:56:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11040369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vague_enthusiast/pseuds/vague_enthusiast
Summary: "Looking for a man sharp of tongue and long of penis. Must semi-ironically appreciate 80’s pop music, or at least be willing to listen to Wham! on high volume at midnight.For the love of god don’t be boring.""People don't know what they wantThey just know they really want itI should knowBetter by nowThere's only soMuch to go around"-Dan Mangan





	1. Matched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hello, welcome! I've been wanting to do a modern AU for a while, so please enjoy!

“Ha!” 

The old lady sitting across from him looked sharply up from her book, glaring daggers at the boy who had dared to laugh-- _laugh_ , I tell you!-- and in this, the most sanctuous of places: the London Underground.

Remus flushed slightly and wiggled in his seat, wishing he could disappear into the nauseatingly patterned fabric. The old lady pushed her spectacles up her nose in a huffy gesture, then turned her attention back to her book. Remus shoved a sleeve into his mouth to stifle his laughter as he glimpsed the title: _Does God Ever Speak Through Cats?_  

With a great deal of effort, he re-focused on what had caused his outburst in the first place. It was a Tinder profile: Sirius, 20. Cashier at Meadowes’ Country Farms. 11 kilometers away. The first image was of a dramatically fluffy, bright orange cat. The second was of a trio of mooning boys, who seemed to be wearing some sort of sporting jersey. The third, a distressingly common Pepe (Remus was wont to gag; apparently Sirius had not gotten the memo that the beloved frog meme was now somehow racist). The fourth and final image was of a gorgeous boy.

Black hair, pulled up into a messy bun. Strikingly light gray eyes, dark lashes, and a shit-eating grin.

But what had made Remus laugh was the description:

"Looking for a man sharp of tongue and long of penis. Must semi-ironically appreciate 80’s pop music, or at least be willing to listen to Wham! on high volume at midnight.

For the love of god don’t be boring."

Sirius had chosen “Careless Whisper” by George Michael as his Spotify anthem. 

 _What a nerd_ , thought Remus. _I like him._ Remus swiped right.

Then he gaped as the words “It’s a Match!” appeared on his screen. Quickly, he navigated to his own profile-- something he did whenever he managed to match with someone. He swiped through his own photos (a generic over-the-coffee-shy-smile shot, a shot of his dog, and a shot of himself sitting peacefully with a book in his favourite place in the world-- the Scottish highlands). Then he scrolled down to his description:

"English Lit student, if you can believe it. Remarkably clumsy, probably bi, and definitely too sarcastic for my own good. If you cannot duel in Shakespearean, I shall bite my thumb at you."

He didn’t have an anthem, but his Instagram with its many fond pictures of plants and dogs and Scotland was available for anyone’s perusal.

Remus bit his lip. The profile represented him, and he was happy enough with it. But, for the life of him, he could not figure out why Sirius would have swiped right. Compared to this strange and striking young man, Remus felt rather dull-- and after all, Sirius had said _don’t be boring_. What had caught his eye?

An alert from his phone startled Remus from his speculation: “Sirius sent you a new message!” _What?_ Remus’s heart quickened. _Already?_  

He jammed his phone into his bag and leaned back against the window of the train, trying to calm his breathing. _Alright Remus, you’ve gotten messages before_ . Lily’s calming voice issued from the back of his mind, as it often did when he got like this. _Why is it an issue now?_ He breathed in, and out, and in again. With his final exhalation, he thought, _because I actually want to impress this one._

It was true, though, that he’d been through this before. He’d had Tinder for over a year. He had matched before, exchanged messages before… Hell, his messages had even gotten a little raunchy before. But with those, he had had no urge to actually _meet_ the person receiving his messages. He had just viewed them as practice, for when he was one day ready to actually _date._

He had just never thought it’d happen today.

He took a breath, then opened the message.

 

Sirius 

**Do you like pina coladas?**

Remus 

_Yes, and I am into champagne…_

Sirius 

**Ah thank fuck, you have half a brain!**

Remus 

_Can’t say I like getting caught in the rain, tho_

Sirius 

**I’d say it’s a matter of context**

Remus 

_Oh?_

Sirius 

**Yeah like**

Sirius 

**If ur late for something or in a rlly bad mood and the clouds take a shit on u**

Sirius

**Not ideal**

Sirius 

**But if ur with an impassioned lover with a penchant for damp jaw-sucking**  

Sirius 

**It’s not half bad**

 

The messages came in quick succession, one after the other after the other. Remus raised an eyebrow-- Sirius must have furiously fast thumbs.

 

Remus 

_Are you speaking from experience?_

Sirius

**If you’re counting dozens of secret re-watchings of The Notebook then heck ye**  

Remus 

_Ah, so no impassioned lovers, then?_

Sirius 

**Nope, that’s a position waiting to be filled**

 

Remus paused. He wasn’t sure what to say to this. It seemed a perfect opening to steer the conversation toward more personal waters, but he didn’t want to be abrupt about it. But then his phone buzzed again, obliterating the issue with a far bigger one.

 

Sirius 

**Speaking of filling, what’s your standard fare?**

Sirius 

**If u like pub food, I know a place**

 

Remus closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the glass behind him. How was he going to reply to this, without Sirius losing interest? He couldn’t go, obviously. This was much too fast, and he knew far too little about the other man. Usually, if somebody asked to meet him after so few messages he’d just stop replying, under the assumption that anyone who moved that quickly could only want sex. 

Lord knew Remus was not ready for that. 

But he did not want to blow Sirius off, either. He thought perhaps Sirius was just a fast-paced being, intent only on meeting Remus as soon as possible, rather than simply fucking him and chucking him.

So, after a great deal of hesitation and far too many re-wordings, Remus fired off a reply.

 

Remus 

_I love soggy fries as much as the next man, but I was hoping to get to know you a little better first._

 

Honest and simple, that’s how Lily would tell him to do it.

There was a pause this time before Sirius’s reply, and Remus thought he might have scarpered off. But instead, Sirius’s message filled him with relief.

 

Sirius 

**You think I would expose you to such a travesty? No, my dear Remus, only the crispiest of fries will grace your fine lips**

Sirius 

**Legit tho no worries, don’t want to rush u**

 

Remus smiled.

 

Sirius 

**Do u wanna move this over to text? Bloody Tinder messaging grinds my nerves.**

 

Remus typed out a reply with his phone number, then noticed that his stop was fast approaching. He stuck his phone in his pocket, grabbed his rucksack, and disembarked, tucking his scarf more firmly around his face and pulling his sleeves over his knuckles before braving the chilly autumn air.

His pocket buzzed, and he scrambled for his phone faster than he’d be like to admit. It was only Lily, though, asking after him. 

 

(10:42 pm)  _Bloody hell, Lupin, since when does “I’ll be home round 8” translate to “It’s nearly 11 and I still haven’t shown up nor texted my roommate to let her know that I’ve not been kidnapped/enslaved/hopped on a passenger ship in search of the new world?”_

 

Remus grinned.

 

(10:43 pm) _pants on, Lils. I’m almost home._

(10:43 pm)  _ah thank fuck. Why so late?_

(10:44 pm) _lost track of time. You know what libraries do to me._

(10:44 pm)  _since when do libraries stay open this late?_

(10:44 pm) _since I got a job in one, and was treated to a beer by my new co-workers._

(10:45 pm)  _what?? Really??? Remus, I’m so happy for you!!_

(10:45 pm) _Thanks, Lils._

 

Remus smiled fondly and was about to pocket his phone when she replied one last time.

 

(10:45 pm)  _Still fuckin pissed at you for not texting tho_

 

Remus snorted, and rounded the corner onto his street. He spied a light on in the window of the little flat he shared with Lily, and felt a pang of guilt for having worried her. She had to get up for work at 4:30 the next morning, and Remus didn’t fancy being the reason she spent a day hungover on lack of sleep. He quickened his stride, but a series of buzzes in his pocket caused him to slow once more as he read three texts that could only be from Sirius:

 

(10:47 pm) **rite so**

(10:47 pm) **pls explain your dog to me**

(10:48 pm) **he is too cute and i cannot abide it**

(10:48 pm) _his name is Atticus and he’s a gem_

(10:49 pm) **aw did u get him after ur english teacher made u read To Kill a Mockingbird in third form? Were u inspired by his aura of moral integrity and quiet confidence?**  

(10:49 pm) _no and frankly I am insulted_

(10:50 pm) _I got him when I was 12_

(10:50 pm) _after I read To Kill a Mockingbird and was inspired by his aura of moral integrity and quiet confidence_

(10:49 pm) **HA**

(10:51 pm) _we call him Kit for short_

(10:52 pm) **freakin adorable, that is**

(10:52 pm) **we?**

 

Remus had reached the door to his flat, which he unlocked before beginning his ascent toward what would certainly be an earful of angry redhead.

 

(10:54 pm) _me n my roommate_  

(10:54 pm) _who, by the way, is about to start shouting at me, so i’d better sign off for the time being_

(10:52 pm) **yikes yikes**

(10:52 pm) **well, I’ll talk to u later, Remus**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I'd love your feedback, so kudos and comments are always welcome.
> 
> Hmu @vagueenthusiast for hp fan art (homemade) and unironically reblogged shitposts. I'd love to hear from you there, too!


	2. A Pair of Clichés

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys chat, Remus reads, and Lily is a pest (bless her).

(4:37 am) **dreamt about Atticus last night**

(4:37 am) **he was smoking a pipe**

(4:37 am) **u should let him know that’s bad for his health**  

(4:38 am) _litrally what the fuck are u doign awake_  

(4:38 am) **contributing to society**  

(4:39 am) **and brightening ur day**  

(4:39 am) _u say “day” like we’r anywhere near one of thosee rn_

 (4:40 am) **aw is poor remu tired**  

(4:40 am) **did i wake him up**  

(4:41 am) _yes n fuck off_  

(4:41 am)   **< 3**

 

Remus peeled his eyes open, wincing as a shaft of sunlight jabbed him in his very tender pupils. His head felt strangely hollow, and as he moved to stretch he could tell it was going to be one of those days. He grabbed his phone and made his slow way to the kitchen, where he saw that Lily had left him a mug and a tea bag next to the kettle, with a little note: “Drink this and chill out for like 10 min before you crack open a textbook, you swotty git. And take your meds. <3 L”

 

Remus smiled and did as he was told, settling onto their ugly barf-green loveseat. Kit trotted over and did his best to leap up next to Remus, laying his soft gray head on Remus’s leg and peering up at him with round, liquid eyes. Remus petted him absentmindedly, sipping his tea and scrolling aimlessly through Tumblr. This went on for a few minutes before Remus froze, remembering his vague and barely-conscious conversation with Sirius in the middle of the night. Quickly he flipped to his messages and constructed what he hoped was a friendly and vaguely apologetic message.

 

(9:46 am) _So how is your contributing to society going so far?_

 

Then he set his tea down and rooted through his rucksack for his Communications textbook. It was a class that he simultaneously loved and resented; he found the subject matter fascinating with its many winding theories, but simply could not abide the long and disastrously philosophical readings. He found himself yearning for plot, and wishing he could go back in time and smack Barthes upside the head for his propensity for making up words.

 

He was halfway into a chapter about the Frankfurt School when his phone buzzed beside him. He marked his place and picked it up, trying (for the sake of his dignity) to be casual as he navigated to his messages.

 

(10:00 am) **Stunningly poorly**

(10:00 am) **dropped a bucketload of ataulfos and those things bruise like anemic bananas**  

(10:01 am) _I am sorry to hear this_  

(10:01 am) _I take it you work at a produce store?_  

(10:02 am) **hipster-ass grocery store/bakery/deli**  

(10:02 am) **I wish desperately to quit but the manager is a friend of mine and i want to give her a chance to find a replacement first**

(10:04 am) _mangoes not your calling?_

(10:05 am) **hell nah**

(10:05 am) **not nearly punk rock enough for me**

 

Remus’s mouth twitched, and he wondered how serious (god, he really needed a synonym for that word) Sirius was about that. He went the safe route and chose not to make fun of him for it.

 

(10:06 am) _what is your calling then?_

(10:06 am) **ur gonna think i’m such a cliche**

(10:07 am) _I’m an English Lit student who lives in 3 layers of knitted wool, drinks ridiculous quantities of Earl Grey, and works at a fuckin library._

(10:08 am) **HA**

(10:08 am) **fair enough**

(10:09 am) **i write songs?**

(10:09 am) **and like**

(10:10 am) **paint and write and shit**

(10:10 am) **idk what i want to do with my life but**

(10:10 am) **artsy fuckery is on the list**

 

Remus sat back, staring at his phone. This boy sang, painted, and wrote? _God, if he’s any good, Sirius might just be the dream._ Remus typed out his reply.

 

(10:12 am) _damn, that’s amazing_

(10:12 am) _what sorts of songs do you write?_

(10:13 am) **i’m attempting to be a cross between like Jeff Buckley and Dan Mangan, but with an 80s vibe?**

(10:13 am) **dunno if you’re familiar**

 

Remus choked on his tea.

 

(10:14 am) _I actually_  

(10:14 am) _heckin love both of those artists_  

(10:14 am) **damn really??**  

(10:15 am) **i didn’t think Dan was all that well known over here**  

(10:15 am) **i only know him cos I have family in Canada**

(10:16 am) _my favourite coffee shop plays a lot of his stuff_

(10:16 am) _and that’s cool, which part of Canada?_  

(10:17 am) **quebec city**

(10:17 am) **frenchies**

 

Remus let out a strangled sound. Kit raised his head and watched him as he forced himself to type slowly.

 

(10:18 am) _do you speak any French?_

(10:18 am) **oui oui**

 

Remus set down his phone, stared around for a minute, then picked it back up.

 

(10:20 am) _are you able to visit them often?_

 

He waited for a moment for Sirius’s reply, but none came. Figuring that Sirius had returned to work or something of the kind, Remus went back to a particularly dense passage of Adorno.

 

***

 

It was past one o’clock before Remus’s phone vibrated again, and he swiped eagerly only to find that it was Lily.  

 

(1:13 pm) _have you eaten lunch?_  

(1:13 pm) _no_  

(1:14 pm) _fancy chinese?_  

(1:14 pm) _if I say no will you still bring it home anyway?_

(1:15 pm) _yes_  

(1:15 pm) _then sure_

 

Remus rubbed at his eyes. Nearly three and a half hours of solid readings, and he still wasn’t done his Communications work for the week. His neck and hips ached from sitting for so long, so he stood tenderly and stretched. Kit leapt off the couch and panted expectantly up at him, so Remus hobbled to the closet next to the door and rummaged for his leash. Donning an ancient beanie and an extra jumper, Remus hooked Kit up, descended the stairs, and opened the door.

 

Bright light assaulted his vision, and he blinked back his tears in an effort not to fall down the concrete steps outside. He made it halfway round the block with Kit before his knees began to complain. His head was pounding now, too, more sore now than it had been when he woke up.

 

When he returned to the flat, Lily was just unlocking the door.

 

“Fancy meeting you here.” He took a bag of takeout off her and kissed her on the cheek.

 

“Well gosh, how very forward of you,” she put a hand to her mouth and batted her eyelids.

 

“I’m not one to play games of foolish fancy, doll.” Remus set the Chinese food on the coffee table, admitting to himself that it did smell remarkably good.

 

Lily let her coat slide off her shoulders, cocking her hip provocatively. “I like a bit of daring in my men.”

 

“Then you’ll like this,” Remus growled before crossing the room and dipping her in his arms, pretending to nuzzle at her neck.

 

Lily cackled, snorting as Remus righted her again. But she stopped as he winced, putting a concerned hand on his arm. “Bad today?”

 

Remus rolled his shoulders. “Been worse.”

 

“What have you eaten?”

 

He frowned guiltily.

 

“Remus!” Lily’s eyebrows came together, and she guided him back to the couch before stalking off to the kitchen for some plates.

 

Remus spotted his phone on the arm of the couch where he had apparently left it, and reached for it automatically. When he reached his home page, he discovered that he had four notifications on his messages app.

 

“Shit,” he murmured, and tapped to open it.

 

(1:35 pm) **Remus this is of utmost importance**  

(1:35 pm) **what is your fav animal**

(1:36 pm) **prongs has declared that u need a nickname and since he gave us ours back in primary school based on our responses to this age old and very deep question**

(1:36 pm) **we figured we’d do the same for u**

 

Remus grinned, relieved. He had begun to think that perhaps he had done something to irritate Sirius, since he didn’t seem the type to leave a message unanswered for long.

 

(1:42 pm) _I don’t particularly have a favourite animal now, but I used to have a thing for wolves. Used to hang drawings up all over my room, and had a peculiar fondness for those shirts with the plasticy print on them, you know?_  

(1:42 pm) _Wolfs howling in front of moons, and all that_

(1:43 pm) **rite rite i’ll pass this along to prongs**  

(1:43 pm) **pourquoi les loups?**  

(1:44 pm) **OH WAIT**

(1:44 pm) **REMUS THE WOLF TWIN**

(1:44 pm) **you cultured little fuck**

(1:45 pm) **prongs has proclaimed you to be Moony**

(1:45 pm) _I should think that name would suit you more given your second Tinder picture_  

(1:46 pm) **u liked that did u? ;)**

(1:46 pm) _i mean..._

 

“Why the blush?” Lily had re-entered the living room unbeknownst to Remus, who shoved his phone guiltily in his pocket as she set a fresh cup of tea and an ibuprofen on the coffee table in front of him.

 

“Er,” he said, articulately.

 

Lily’s eyes brightened as she sensed weakness, handing him a plate before taking her place to his left, legs crossed and facing him.

 

He avoided her gaze and unwrapped his chopsticks.

 

“Who is he?” Lily rubbed her own chopsticks together like they were the hands of a plotting villain.

 

Remus hastily shoved a piece of honey garlic chicken in his mouth, then gestured to it and mumbled, “Sorry, mouth full.” He shrugged helplessly.

 

She prodded him with her foot. “C’mon, spill. Spill, spill, spill.”

 

Remus swallowed the chicken and reached for his tea, washing down his pill with a grimace. “You’re not gonna stop until I tell you, are you?”

 

“Nope,” she quipped smugly.

 

Remus sighed and reached for the fried rice. “Right so, you know Tinder?”

 

“I know it.” Lily nodded seriously.

 

“Fuck off.”

 

Kit huffed and got up between them. Remus fed him a bit of chicken and Lily swatted him disapprovingly. “Resume.”

 

“There’s a boy who I may have met on Tinder, who may be extremely attractive, and may have heard of Dan Mangan--”

 

Lily gasped.

 

“--and may be artistic as fuck and is, apparently, interested in me?” He finished his sentence as a question and popped another piece of chicken in his mouth as Lily squealed gleefully.

 

“Pictures, now!”

 

Remus shook his head.

 

“Remuuuuus,” Lily resumed prodding him.

 

“No, Lils,” he said as seriously as he could with a red-haired beauty shoving her totoro-clad foot beneath his arse. “I want to keep him to myself for a while.”

 

She pouted, but seemed to accept this as she retracted her foot. She watched him chew for a minute, then settled against the back of the couch. “Gilmore Girls?”

 

“Fuck yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think so far, I'd love to hear from you!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @vagueenthusiast


	3. Time Was Created by Dentists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Times are good, then less good, then much less good.

Remus officially started work two days later. A dark-haired girl named Marlene was to train him, and he found himself thoroughly impressed by her quick wit and her alarming passion for the dewey decimal system. When prompted, she would gush about the famous spiral in the Seattle Public Library until told to shut up. She was aggressively fond of Jelly Babies, and only teased him a little over his incessant texting.

 

Lily, meanwhile, did not hold back on this front. Remus made the mistake of inviting her along to the Leaky Cauldron one day after work, and she and Marlene could not seem to stop mocking him. Mary, his other co-worker, only smiled softly at their ribbing and gifted him with the occasional sympathetic wink.

 

After a bit of gentle prodding, Sirius divulged that his nickname was Padfoot (for his “love of pupper toe beans”) and that ‘Prongs’ was what he called his best friend James. The two of them lived with their friend Peter, or ‘Wormtail’. James and Peter were students at the same school as Remus, where they studied Pre-Law and Geography, respectively.

 

Remus was bestowed with the gift of James’s number, and found that Sirius’s best friend was willing to divulge even the most embarrassing bits of Sirius’s time at private school.

 

(11:12 pm) **discovered he liked blokes after he got sprung lookin at Fabian Prewett’s arse in the showers.**

(11:13 pm) _Fabian Prewett?_

(11:17 pm) **upperclassman. He was on our school’s football team with us, vivid redhead and very straight, turns out. had a good sense of humour tho, which was a bit of an adventure for pads when Fabs figured it all out.**

(11:18 pm) _poor pads_

(11:25 pm) **turned out ok for him though. Fabs had a twin who wasn’t so straight.**  

 

James was frustratingly slow at texting, though, and as entertaining as they were, their conversations were only ever a few messages long.

 

Meanwhile, Remus and Sirius had a rhythm going. Sirius would wake him up for a grumpy exchange at around four thirty in the morning, then Remus would message him again once he was fully awake. They’d text for a while during Sirius’s break. Remus would go to work or school (he’d carefully selected classes and shifts in the hours between ten o’clock and eight o’clock, after he’d had a chance to wake up and before the pain became too much to bear), and they’d check in again around lunch time. The evenings were the best, though, when they were both off work and they could talk for ages. Remus could sit for hours, neglecting Lily and the Gilmore Girls and talking to Padfoot about nothing. He even chose Sirius over readings sometimes.

  

(8:46 pm) **i have had a thought**

(8:47 pm) _again?_

(8:47 pm) **hush, you**

(8:47 pm) _:*_

(8:48 pm) **do u want to hear my thought or are u content with wounding my fragile self-confidence**

(8:48 pm) _rite sorry yes_  

(8:48 pm) _thought away, pads_  

(8:49 pm) **so time is a construct, right? like**  

(8:49 pm) **our hour/minute/second system is completely arbitrary**  

(8:49 pm) **we just agreed on it so we’d all show up at the dentist when we’re supposed to**

(8:50 pm) _tru, time is a construct put in place by dentists_  

(8:51 pm) **and our day and night cycle is just based on the rate our lil planet just happens to rotate relative to a star**  

(8:51 pm) _this is very interesting but i’m still waiting for the thought here_  

(8:51 pm) **ya it’s coming moony calm ur tits**

(8:52 pm) **the thought is, is there no time in space? since in space u aren’t orbiting around anything and like**  

(8:52 pm) **there are no dentists?**  

(8:53 pm) _pads_  

(8:53 pm) _on a scale of 1-10, how high are you?_  

(8:54 pm) **moony**  

(8:54 pm) **numbers are a construct too**

 

And so it went.

 

One evening though, Remus’s curiosity overtook him.

  

(9:51 pm) _so siriu_

(9:51 pm) **yes remu?**  

(9:52 pm) _why don’t you talk about your family?_

  

Remus had first noticed it after he had finished explaining to Sirius that his love of books came from his mother, while his love of knit sweaters came from his father. Sirius had expressed how adorable he found this, before promptly steering the conversation to favourite childhood authors. Remus couldn’t help but wonder why Sirius would rather talk about Diana Wynne Jones and Terry Pratchett than his own parents.

 

There was a long pause after Remus dared at last to ask.

  

(10:01 pm) **there’s a lot of shit there, moony**  

(10:03 pm) _I see_  

(10:04 pm) _well all I can say to that is that I promise you that I will never judge you for anything you tell me_  

(10:04 pm) **i know, and i appreciate that about you**

(10:05 pm) _do you want me to tell you something about myself?_  

(10:05 pm) _something difficult to stomach, i mean. So that you don’t feel like you’re oversharing_

 

Remus’s heart was pounding. He’d never thought to go this deep with a Tinder match before, let alone most people he’d been friends with for years. But something about how Sirius avoided the topic of family made Remus believe that the other man would only feel comfortable sharing if Remus, too, showed a darker side of his past.

 

He started as Lily touched his cheek. It seemed that at some point, she had turned off the TV and stood. “I’m going to bed, love. Do get some sleep, alright?”

 

He nodded, smiling weakly after her as she slipped into her room.

 

(10:07 pm) **if you’re comfortable**

 

Remus took a deep breath, then began to type.

 

(10:09 pm) _so when i was a kid, my dad accidentally got someone fired at work, and rather than find a new job like a decent human being, the bloke retaliated by grabbing me from our front garden._

 

He held his breath until Sirius responded.

 

(10:10 pm) **god I am so sorry**  

(10:10 pm) **people fucking suck**

 

Remus shut his eyes, unprepared for the tears Sirius’s sympathy brought to his eyes. He had been careful for so long, careful not to think about that dark month. He had been stuffing the memories down for years, and now they were pouring back into him as though he had cracked open a door only to find six feet of water on the other side. It rushed in and drowned him in cold, dark damp. He shook. Kit whined from beside him.

 

(10:13 pm) _yeah_

 

He waited for a few more minutes for another reply, but his head had begun to pound and he decided that bed was his best option. He could continue this conversation in the morning.

 

Only when the next morning came, he found himself wracked with pain and rather unable to move. His head was on fire, and his hands were so stiff and painful that he couldn’t even get into his contacts to call Lily. Instead, he threw his sheets off, stuffed his pillow over his head, and waited.

 

It was over three hours later that she cracked open his bedroom door.

 

“Remmi? You didn’t drink your tea, and you were supposed to be at work an hour ago.” He felt his bed dip as she sat down next to him. “Pillow off,” she ordered, trying to pry it from his face.

 

He groaned in response. He honestly thought that if he exposed himself to any light at all, his head would split open. He felt Kit’s damp nose press into his side where his shirt had ridden up.

 

“Alright, how’s this: I’ll lend you my sleeping mask, and you’ll lend me your pillow. Fair?”

 

He let out a muffled, “Fucking sure.” Then he launched into a coughing fit.

 

Minutes later, the pillow was peeled from his face and cool hands were fitting the mask over his eyes. Lily took his temperature, and hummed in approval. She helped him sit up a little, stuffed the pillow behind his back, then made him drink some tea and swallow his pills. “Extra ibuprofen, and I’ve called your doctor. He said you should rest up, let the antibiotics kick in, and go to the hospital if the fever gets much higher than 38.8. You’re only at 37.5 now, so you should be okay unless it gets worse in the night.”

 

Remus grunted in response.

 

“I’ll be right back.”

 

When Lily returned, she climbed over him to sit between him and the wall. Remus could tell by the soft flannel which brushed his leg that she had changed into her pyjamas. Remus felt the gentle pressure of her fingertips over the sore spots at his temples, and he relaxed into the relief they brought.

 

“Love you, Lils,” he muttered, wincing at the grating pain the movement of his jaw caused.

 

Slowly, the pain meds began to kick in and the fire in his head and joints eased. Lily got some soup into him, then he fell into an uneasy sleep. He only woke up for a moment the following morning as Lily crept off to work, pressing his phone into his hands before she left. “I’m your first emergency contact for a reason, Remus. Call me if you need me.”

 

But he didn’t end up needing her. By midday, he was well enough to move to the kitchen and make himself some tea, before he set to calling work and apologizing profusely to Marlene, who had had to work their shift alone. She forgave him quickly, despite his reluctance to divulge too much about his condition. Luckily, he wasn’t scheduled for today, and could afford to miss his Comparative Cultures in Writing class. He had a doctor’s note for this sort of situation, which he used whenever his professors did not take him at his word.

 

When at last all business was taken care of, Remus sat down at the kitchen table and cracked open his messenger app to read the 14 messages Sirius had sent him over the past thirty six hours.

 

(12:47 am) **fuck it**  

(12:47 am) **i trust you**  

(12:50 am) **so,** **my family is a bit of a shitshow. You may have heard of the Blacks? My mother was heiress to a big oil company in the mid-east, married my dad for his good breeding. They had us out of obligation, ‘heir and the spare’ and all that**

(12:52 am) **anyway, they aren’t the accepting type. So when my brother outed me as gay, they kicked me out. I stayed with James after that.**  

(12:55 am) **normally** **i couldn’t give less of a shit about them all, but some stuff has happened recently that brought it all back**  

(12:55 am) **which is why i quit school. I’d been studying to be an architect, see**

(12:57 am) **but the recent stuff, it threw me for a bit of a mental health loop, if you catch my drift**  

(1:05 am) **anyway i’m sure you’re trying to sleep so… talk to you in the morning, Remus**  

(1:06 am) **< 3** 

(4:33 am) **sorry about all that, I know it’s a lot**

(9:32 am) **Remus? could you just answer me?**  

(9:36 am) **god, I knew this was a bad idea. My family always fucks shit up**

(8:00 pm) **right so Prongs says fuck you if you can’t handle this side of me and at this point I’m inclined to agree.**  

(8:05  pm) **so goodbye i guess**

 

Remus sat back in his chair.  He expelled the breath he had been holding in one short word. “Fuck.” He had to blink a few times before his phone would come into focus again. He still had two unread messages, both from James.

 

(8:09 pm) **wow you seemed so cool**  

(8:10 pm) **too bad you’re a piece of shit. Adios, moony, have fun being a judgemental asshole for the rest of your life, if you can call it that.**

 

When Lily came home that afternoon, she found Remus’s phone on the kitchen table. Remus himself was nowhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeaahhh it wasn't going to stay happy for long, was it?
> 
> Thanks for reading! As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated, and I'd love to hear from you over on Tumblr, where I'm @vagueenthusiast


	4. Dissociation, Dingbats, and Sirius Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus has a bit of a hard time, and Lily is a good friend. Oh yeah, and Sirius appears.

Remus was in a bookstore. Which one precisely, he did not know. Nor did he care, particularly. He had been wandering down the street, floating about a half-inch above his body and entirely numb but for his pounding head, when the amber glow of something distinctly friendly had invaded his periphery. He had followed the light through a door, which jingled; said a distant “Hello,” to whomever stood behind the counter; and found himself situated directly in front of a section titled _Fiction_.

 

Before him was an array of books. For a moment, he marvelled at the variety; some small, some large, some colourful, some sleek, some embossed, and all with so many pages. He picked one up and opened it. Inside, he found words. He stared at them for a moment, before remembering that he could read them. So he did.

 

***

 

Lily had no fucking clue what to do.

 

She had been searching for nearly two hours, checking all Remus’s favourite haunts (a short list, considering that he was a bit of a shut-in), but so far, no luck. She was on the verge of breaking down, or calling the police, or quite possibly imploding.

 

“Lily?”

 

She whipped around, hoping against all hope that the mellow tenor was Remus’s, though she knew her roommate to be gravelly baritone. Her shoulders sank in disappointment when she saw that it wasn’t him.

 

“Oh, hullo James.” She gave him a perfunctory nod before turning round and trodding once more in the direction of the park. It was unlikely that Remus would be there, since he claimed the place was never the same since they cut down the bent old apple tree. But she was fast running out of ideas.

 

“Wait, Lily!”

 

Lily started. She had forgotten that James was there.

 

“What’s wrong?” He jogged to catch up with her.

 

“Nothing.” She was not in the mood to fend off his hovering right now.

 

“Woah,” he put a hand on her arm. She glanced down at it, then stared up at him, eyebrow raised. He shivered visibly under her glare, but held fast. “You’ve got two random buttons of your coat done, you’re wearing two different shoes and… blimey, Lily, half your eyebrow is missing!”

 

She put a hand to her brow, blushing. “Oh.” She must have wiped it off during all of her stressed out forehead-rubbing.

 

“What’s happened?” James guided her to a bench, where they sat down.

 

“My roommate’s gone missing.”

 

James stared. “You have a roommate?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You’ve never said anything about her before.”

 

Lily rubbed at her forehead, realized what she was doing, and stopped. “Course I have! And it’s a him.”

 

“I swear to god, Lily, in the full year we’ve worked together you have never mentioned you have a roommate.”

 

“You must just not listen.”

 

“Course I listen! You’re from Scotland and you miss it all the time, you love all things sci-fi but your guilty pleasure is Gilmore Girls-- yes, I’ve seen you rock out to Sam Phillips, don’t try to argue with me; your favourite colour is green although you claim it’s red, and you actually really hate coffee .”

 

Lily stared at James, momentarily shocked out of her panicked stupor. He stared back defiantly for a solid two and a half seconds, before turning beet red and looking away.

 

“Right. So you do listen, then,” Lily admitted.

 

“I do.”

 

There was a moment of silence.

 

James fidgeted. “Anything I can do to help?”

 

Lily shook her head. “I’d rather it be just me that finds him, if I can help it. He’s… well, he’s likely to be in a bit of a state when he turns up, and having to deal with a stranger will only make things worse.”

 

“Will he be ok?”

 

Lily shrugged. “He’s been through some shit. He usually handles things pretty well, but sometimes something happens that just… y’know. I’m sure this is one of those times.”

 

James nodded. “He sounds like one of my roommates.” His tone was unusually sober.

 

“Yeah?” Lily was looking at him curiously.

 

James met her eyes for a moment, the shook himself and stood. “Well, I don’t want to keep you. Let me know when you find him, though.”

 

“I will.” She watched him thread back down the street, disappearing into a crowd of shoppers. Then she sighed, stood, and set off to search for Remus once more.

 

***

 

“Sir?” The store clerk was tapping him on the shoulder. “Sir? We’re about ready to close.”

 

Remus blinked up at her. “Close?” He looked down at the book. It was good, and he very much did not want it to close. He wanted to keep it open, so that the words could pour through his eyes and coat his heart with beating black.

 

“Yes. It’s nearly five-thirty.”

 

Remus kept staring at the book, which was getting blurry all the sudden as though it were underwater.

 

“Oh-- I’m sorry-- um.” The store clerk left him alone. Perhaps Remus would be allowed to keep reading. All he had to do was wait for the water to clear up.

 

“Sir, is there somebody you would like me to call?” It was a man this time, wearing the same uniform as the store clerk, who was hovering nervously behind him. Even through all the water, Remus could see that his name badge read, “Stevie Nixon, Shift Manager”.

 

Remus nodded. Somebody handed him a phone, and he poked in the first number he could think to call. When she answered, he couldn’t think what to say, so Stevie Nixon the Shift Manager took the phone from his hand and answered all her questions.

 

Remus went back to his reading.

 

***

 

(5:46 pm)  _found him._

 

(5:50 pm) **good**

 

***

 

It took a few days to get his fever back down, but Remus was able to return to work the following Saturday. Marlene gave him a warm hug when he slid behind the counter to join her, and Mary clasped his hand for a second before moving off to re-shelve some books.

 

At home, Remus threw himself back into his studies. His little dissociative episode and the days of illness which followed had put him behind in all his classes, particularly in Communications. He had to force himself to skim, telling himself he would make an effort to understand the theories behind what he was reading when exam season came round. He knew he would regret it later, but at this point he felt he would drown if he gave each reading as much attention as he wanted to.

 

Lily was still angry with him. She had played nurse over the first few days, gentle and demanding and absolutely perfect. But as soon as he had recovered, she had put up an icy shield between them. He knew he had scared her, and that she would forgive him given a little time. He just wished she’d hurry up and do it, because he needed her advice.

 

His phone with its messages from Sirius and James sat like a hot coal in his pocket, burning its way through cloth and into flesh, demanding to be dealt with. But he just didn’t know what to say.

 

And so he worked, and he studied, and he ate, and he slept. It was all he could do. It was all he could think to do.

 

He was wading through a particularly viscous bit of Ulysses one night when Lily thrust a flyer in front of his nose.

 

“It’s been a week and a half. I’ve decided to forgive you. You’re coming to this, Remus, because you’re starting to blend in with the couch. It’s like watching a dead bug being slowly consumed by moss. Honestly, it’s quite pathetic.”

 

He grinned, taking the flyer without looking at it. “I missed you,” he said, because he really really had.

 

Her eyes overbright, Lily nodded. “Course you did. I’m wonderful. Now get ready.”

 

“For what?”

 

Lily paused on her way down the hall. “Look at the flyer, you great dithering dingbat.”

 

He did. It read, _Night of music at the Three Broomsticks! Debut performance by Canis, followed by Scoundrel’s Rebellion, and Ointment in the Fly._

 

“Oh, and wear something cute!”

 

***

 

“I still don’t understand why you insist upon wearing that monstrosity.” 

 

Remus brushed imaginary dust from his rocket-ship-and-giant-tarantula-on-the-moon sweatshirt and gave a put-upon sigh. “It takes a nuanced eye to appreciate the wonders of the Asda boys’ department.” He turned and locked the door to their flat.

 

Lily huffed. “What if there’s a pretty boy there? You should’ve worn that black jumper I got you for Christmas. You look damn good in that jumper.”

 

Remus shrugged. “You know what they say. If they can’t handle me at my tarantula-est, they can’t handle me at my worst…” He trailed off. The truth was, he was even less in the mood to be hit on than usual. He was still sore from the failure that had been his month-long flirtation with Sirius.

 

Lily seemed to sense this, and stopped bugging him about his clothes. “Fine. I’m still pleased I got you to go to this thing.”

 

“Well, now, there’s no guarantee I’ll actually make it through the door.”

 

Lily looped her arm through his as they walked. “Course you will, Remmi. You’ve got me.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t work like that.” But he gave her arm a squeeze all the same. It wasn’t Lily’s fault she didn’t understand his social anxiety, and she really did do her best to make him feel safe.

 

They walked in silence for a moment. Lily drummed her fingers on his arm, and Remus could feel the questions building in her; Lily never was any good at keeping to herself. He steeled himself in preparation.

 

After a few moments, she broke. “What happened, Remus? You were so happy.”

 

“Got sick. You were there.” 

 

“I meant with the boy. The one you couldn’t stop texting, the one that had you smiling all the time. The one you wouldn’t tell me anything about.”

 

“His name was Sirius, Lils, you know that. And I told you plenty about him.”

 

“Only little bits. Only superficial stuff.”

 

Remus frowned. “That’s all he really told me, up until the end.”

 

“You make it sound like he died. Oh god, he didn’t die, did he?”

 

Remus snorted. “No, he didn’t die. He just… he told me something big, and I couldn’t get back to him right away and-- and--”

 

Lily pulled him to a stop. “Wait-- you told him you were ill, right? That your hands were too stiff to text?”

 

Remus looked at his shoes.

 

Lily squawked.“Remus! Why the hell not!?”

 

Remus’s view of his shoes began to blur. “I don’t know,” he muttered thickly. “I just... I never want to be a bother, you know?” 

 

Lily put a hand to his cheek. “I know.” Her eyes were profoundly sad as they ghosted over his features. “But Remus, sometimes it really is better to be a bother than to let someone think poorly of you! Don’t you think he would have forgiven you had he known about your illness?”

 

Remus nodded, although there was far more to it than that. He hadn’t wanted to give away his illness just yet, had wanted to preserve whatever image Sirius had in his head that made him keep talking to Remus. And there was something beyond even that; it was as though a physical blockade appeared every time Remus had to ask for anything, especially forgiveness.

 

Lily tugged him along once more. “Well, in any case. You deserve to have fun tonight, so do try to join in. Have a hot chocolate, enjoy the music; half the people that'll be there are my coworkers, and you like most of them, as far as I know.”

 

That much was true. “Will Jaaaames be there?” He poked an elbow into her ribs.

 

Lily pursed her lips. “Yes, seeing as it’s his friend who’s making their debut tonight.”

 

Remus grinned wolfishly. “Oh so _James_ is __ why you made me come tonight! To support his friend? I see how it is, I’m just a number to you.”

 

Lily swatted him. “Hush you, we’re almost there.”

 

Remus was considering starting up a chant of  _ James and Lily, sitting in a tree _ when the sound of a guitar, electric and pure, wound its way to them. Someone had opened the door to the Three Broomsticks, spilling light and music onto the street. Lily pulled him along so she could catch the door before it closed.

 

“Lily! You’re late, he’s nearly done his set!” James pulled her inside, where the two engaged immediately in a bout of bickering, leaving Remus to breathe in the familiar atmosphere of the the cafe. As nervous as he had been to join Lily tonight, he couldn’t help but feel soothed in this magnificent space.

 

From the outside, the Three Broomsticks looked like absolutely nothing. A dull brick wall, an engraved black sign, and a heavy wooden door. But on the inside, the place was a marvel. Board games and books lined the walls, which were painted a rich burgundy and inlaid with a golden filigree far too rich for the otherwise earthy establishment. A great slab of grey stone served as a counter, behind which baristas buzzed to make all manner of themed drinks. Nearly a hundred varieties of tea in multi-coloured tins lined the wall beyond, with names like “Allons-y”, “Where was Gondor?” and “Sudden But Inevitable Betrayal”. Little mason-jar lamps hung from the ceiling on beaded chains, emitting little pools of glowing light which illuminated each table. At one end of the room, a massive fireplace usually burned, although tonight the hearth had been transformed into a stage.

 

Remus’s stomach dropped when he glimpsed the man who occupied it, bent over his guitar and singing with soaring ease.

 

_ They gave him the good book, they taught him the songs, _

_ But when they sang, he never sang along. _

_ They showed him the world, tried to force him to see, _

_ And he looked hard, but he never could believe. _

_ So he wrote his own books, he sang his own songs, _

_ But in all those words, he never spoke of God. _

 

His dark hair was loose, and his eyes were downcast, but his face was unmistakeable. He was Sirius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that sweatshirt really exists, and yes, I do indeed own it. Also, that verse is an excerpt from a song I wrote! It's one that means a lot to me, so if you want to use the lyrics for anything, please talk to me first.
> 
> As usual, I'd love to hear from you here or over on Tumblr, where I'm @vagueenthusiast. Thanks for reading!


	5. Forgiven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panic attacks are had, knife-fights avoided, and a good deal of progress is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW HI I'm so sorry this took so long, school ate me and then I could not for the life of me get this chapter right. I'm still not 100% satisfied, but I hope you like it anyway.

At some point, Sirius realized, he had stopped shaking and actually started enjoying himself.

 

He had nearly chickened out, locking himself in the bathroom of the Three Broomsticks and refusing to take the stage. James had busted down the door to find him crouched on the floor, elbows braced firmly on each side of the toilet seat, hands buried in his hair. It had taken a great deal of cajoling to prize Sirius from that position and seat him firmly on stage, and only once his guitar was in hand did Sirius fully register that  _ yes, he was actually doing this.  _

 

Somehow, he played through the mist that had set itself in front of his eyes, mechanically strumming his way through his first two songs. There was enthusiastic applause after each, so he knew he must have been convincing. But his final song took far too much angst to play on auto-pilot. So he had shaken himself, taken a sip of the tea that someone had set beside him, and wrapped himself in song. He entered what James called  _ Sirius Mode _ , bent over his guitar, eyes pressed shut and mind wholly on the music. When at last he looked up, grinning at the applause, his gaze was met by two startled amber eyes.

 

Sirius tilted his head. They were really quite familiar, those eyes. It took him a moment of staring-- they really were quite pretty-- to realize that he had a whole face, a whole  _ person _ to look at. It was only upon taking in the beanie, the massively nerdy shirt, and the look of utter horror on the other boy’s face that Sirius realized why his heart had picked up its pace. 

 

It was Remus.

 

Sirius stood, eyes still on the other boy. He opened his mouth to speak, and Remus took a step backward. 

 

“Mate! What did I say?” James clapped him on the shoulder.   
  


Sirius started, then turned to his friend and grinned. “That I’m a stunningly gorgeous player and that these serfs should be so lucky to hear me? That you’d marry me yourself if you weren’t already smitten?”

 

The red-haired girl who stood at James’ shoulder raised an eyebrow. Sirius recognized her from the many times he had ordered tea from her, and from the photos James often fawned over on his laptop, switching tabs to  _ Motorcyclist Online  _ whenever he thought somebody was looking.

 

Seeing Lily’s expression, James coughed. “I think that in your fit of pre-show melodrama you may have mistaken my words slightly.”

 

Peter appeared at James’ shoulder. “Nope, Prongs, I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what you said. Dangerous thing, really, complimenting this one.” He shoved about half a slice of lemon loaf into his mouth.

 

James whacked him on the shoulder, causing the smaller man to choke. “Traitor,” he muttered. Peter flipped him off, sputtering crumbs. A great deal of bickering ensued.

 

Lily gave Sirius a put-upon look. She stuck out a hand. “I’m Lily, by the way. I’ve seen you around the shop, but I’m realizing now that I have no idea what your name is. I only know you as ‘Pads’ from this one--” she jerked her head at James. “--and by Canis, which I assume is just your stage name. Unless it isn’t, in which case I’ve been horribly rude.”

 

Sirius’s eyes, which had been following a beanie clad head as it ducked out the door, snapped back to hers as he realized that she was expecting a response. “Sorry,” he said, flashing an apologetic smile. “I’m in desperate need of a fag. Catch up later?” He wove towards the door without waiting for her reply.

 

He burst into the cold evening air, glancing up and down the street for a retreating figure. But there was no sign of life beyond the brown tabby which scurried from beneath a parked car to sit at the corner of the street, staring up at him.

 

“Hallo,” murmured Sirius, approaching the cat and dropping into a crouch. He ran a hand over its ears and smiled as it began to purr. “You’re alright, aren’t you?”

 

A muffled cough sounded from somewhere close by, startling the cat into a sprint. Sirius straightened, heart pounding, and peered into the alleyway of the Three Broomsticks. Just beyond the lamplit side door, he could make out the shape of somebody hunched against the wall.

 

“Er,” Sirius said. “You alright, mate?”

 

The figure stiffened, but it seemed to be having trouble breathing, let alone speaking.

 

Sirius moved a little closer. In the dim yellow light, he could see curls peeking out from beneath a beanie. “Remus?”

 

Remus’s hands flew up to cover his face as he continued to gasp for breath.

 

Sirius closed the distance between them. “Hey, let’s just focus on breathing, yeah?” He put a tentative hand to the other boy’s shoulder. 

 

Remus nodded jerkily and took a few gasping breaths.

 

“Slowly, now. In and out.” Sirius gave him a tentative pat and released his shoulder.

 

After a little while, Remus’s breathing seemed to ease, and he slid down the wall into a sprawled sitting position, an elbow on each knee and hands still firmly pressed to his face. A muffled “Sorry” issued from between scarred fingers.

 

“S’alright. There’s no controlling a panic attack.”

 

There was a moment of silence.

 

“So.”

 

Remus released his face in favour of dropping his head so that his features were covered by shadow. “So.” He sounded absolutely defeated.

 

“Wasn’t me what set you off, was it?”

 

Remus shrugged. “It was already a big ask for me to come here. You just tipped the scale.”

 

Sirius frowned guiltily. “I’m sorry.”

 

“For what? You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s me that’s been--” a long-fingered hand waved frustratedly. “Nothing about this is your fault.”

 

“Well,” Sirius started. But then he couldn’t think of anything else to say, and silence lingered once more between them.

 

“I didn’t-- I didn’t mean to ignore you. Your messages, I mean.” Remus’s voice was tight with misery. 

 

“Oh.”

 

“I couldn’t get to my phone.”

 

Sirius thought that sounded like a lie, but Remus sounded so wretched that he wasn’t inclined to press him about it.

 

“S’ok. It’s a lot to handle, the whole my-family-ousted-me-for-my-sexuality thing. And the mental health stuff. I shouldn’t have piled all that on you at once--”

 

“No, that’s not it!” Remus’s head jerked up, and he met Sirius’s eyes for the second time. “I wanted you to be able to tell me. I swear, it had nothing to do with you, I just couldn’t-- oh, fuck it, you’ve seen my face, you’ll figure it out soon enough.” 

 

Only then did Sirius notice the reddish patches spreading like butterfly wings from either side of Remus’s nose. 

 

Remus continued. “I have lupus, Sirius, and my hands were so stiff and my head hurt so much that I couldn’t use my phone for a while. By the time I saw your messages, it seemed like it was too late, and I didn’t what to say--”

 

Sirius’s gut twisted in guilt. “Remus, you could have just said that!”

 

“It’s just… It’s not exactly attractive.” Remus gestured at his face.

 

Sirius begged to differ, but he could tell there would be no convincing Remus of that tonight. “Who gives a shit?” he said instead, so earnestly that Remus let out a laugh. 

 

“You really don’t care?”

 

“No. What kind of asshole would?”

 

Remus frowned. “It’s… it’s not easy, dealing with somebody like me. I wouldn’t blame you if--”

 

“Hi, yes, have you met me? Spoken to me? I’m not exactly ‘low-maintenance’ either.”

 

“Yes, but--”

 

Sirius moaned. “C’mon, Remus. The horse is dead, stop beating it! I don’t care that you have lupus, if you don’t care that I come with enough baggage for a blimp ride to Kawasaki. Yes?”

 

Remus chewed his lip. “Well… yes.”

 

Sirius took the other boy’s cold fingers and squeezed. “Shall we start over, then?”

 

Remus shook his head. “No.”

 

Sirius froze. “Oh. Right, I just thought--”

 

“I don’t want to start over, because it might go differently. I liked where we left off.”

 

Sirius grinned, and it took all he had not to pull Remus into a hug. Remus smiled back. Then both of them leapt as a booming voice filled the alleyway.

 

“SIRIUS BLACK SINCE WHEN DO YOU SMOKE, SO HELP ME GOD I WILL RIP THAT CIGARETTE FROM YOUR MOUTH AND--”

 

“Wait,  _ Sirius _ ?  _ That’s _ his real name? Remus, get away from that asshole--”

 

“Asshole?” James turned on Lily as Sirius and Remus watched, agast. “That’s my friend! And-- wait--  _ Remus _ ? He’s the one that fucked Sirius up for like a week!”

 

Lily crossed her arms, glaring up at James. “How dare you! Sirius is the one that fucked Remus up--”

 

“Well, maybe he shouldn’t have ghosted Sirius, then.”

 

“It is not Remus’s fault! He--”

 

Remus stood, startling Sirius with his height. “Lily! It’s fine! We’ve spoken, it was all a misunderstanding.”

 

Lily stopped shouting, but continued to glower at Sirius. James’s glare lingered on Remus, whose eyes lit up as he figured everything out. “Wait,  _ you’re _ Sirius’s James?”

 

“Course I am.”

 

“But I buy hot chocolate from you all the time! And-- and Lily works with you!” He turned to Lily. “How did you not know he was best friends with Sirius?”

 

Lily’s eyebrows knit together and she shrugged. “He always referred to the prat as Pads. And you never showed me his picture, so I never realized I knew him. This sod comes in for London Fogs all the time.”

 

Remus sighed. “He’s neither a prat nor a sod, Lily.”

 

Sirius grinned up at him.

 

Lily frowned. “So you say.”

 

“I do.”

 

They all stood in silence for a moment, each trying to figure out how angry to be and at whom, before Peter meandered into the alleyway, startling them all. “Uh,” he said, glancing between them. “So, which of you are the Jets and which are the Sharks? Because I always thought the Sharks were cooler and if we’re going to have a knife fight I’d rather be on their side.”

 

***

 

After a few tense moments and a bit of wheedling from Sirius, Remus and Peter, James and Lily agreed to stand down in favour of a cup of tea back at the Three Broomsticks. They joined Sirius’s friends from work at one of the long tables near the exit; he introduced them as Dorcas, Frank, and Alice. They all turned their attention to the hearth as Scoundrels’ Rebellion struck up the last song of their set. 

 

It took Remus a moment to realize why the drummer looked so familiar. When the applause died and the crowd began to murmur, he called over to her. “Marls!” 

 

She wove through the crowd to their table. “Remus! I didn’t know you’d be here!”

 

“Neither did I!” He grinned at her.

 

Marlene took a seat between him and Dorcas. “Did you like our set?”

 

“Only caught the last song, I’m afraid. You were amazing, though!”

 

“You really were,” Dorcas interjected, smiling at Marlene. “I’ve never seen someone play the drums so gracefully.”

 

Marlene blushed. Remus smirked and turned to Sirius, leaving them to gush about 90s rock bands.

 

Sirius’s grey eyes met his, and he jumped. It still hadn’t quite sunk in that Sirius was  _ real _ , that Sirius was  _ here,  _ that Sirius had  _ forgiven  _ him. They hadn’t really spoken since the alleyway, just exchanged shy smiles and glances as their friends carried the conversation.

 

“Hi,” Remus said, intelligently. 

 

“Hi.” Sirius smirked. It really was quite unfair of him to do so, with that face and all. Rude, really.

 

Remus jerked his gaze away, fastening it on his hands instead.

 

“You doing alright?”

 

“Mmm?” Remus wasn’t sure he could form words at the moment.

 

“It’s a bit overwhelming in here.”

 

“Oh.” 

 

“Remus?”

 

“Er, yeah?”

 

“Why won’t you look at me?”

 

“Um.”

 

“Remuuuus,” Sirius crooned. Then he reached over, with his actual hand, and turned Remus’s face toward him. His fingers left warm traces on Remus’s jaw as he removed them, and Remus could feel his cheeks heat as they flushed even redder than usual. 

 

With a great deal of effort, he managed to meet Sirius’s eyes. “I'm  looking at you, see?” His voice came out as a croak.

 

Sirius tilted his head, and the movement was so doglike that Remus couldn’t help but smile. “What’s up, Moony?”

 

Remus shrugged. “I suppose I’m just wondering… why?”

 

Sirius blinked. “Why what?”

 

“Why you’re bothering with me?” Remus hadn’t realized he’d been thinking it until the words came spilling out of his mouth.

 

“You’re worth bothering.”

 

Remus looked back down at his hands. Nobody had ever bothered with him before, let alone somebody like Sirius.

 

“Really, Remus. Trust me, I don’t often…” He trailed off. “What I’m trying to say is that I like you, Moony.”

 

“Oh. Right.”

 

“Is that alright with you?”

 

Remus flushed harder. “Yeah,” he mumbled.

 

Remus was too busy trying to restart his heart notice, but next to him, Sirius beamed. The young Black leaned over to James, who was engaged with Lily in what seemed to be an argument about bees. Tapping his friend on the shoulder, Sirius whispered, “I think he likes me back.”

 

James glanced over at his friend and smiled. “Good on you, mate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate all your comments and kudos, and if you want to talk to me or witness my attempts at fan art, you can find me on Tumblr as @vagueenthusiast.


	6. In Which Lily is a Good Friend (although every chapter could be called that)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius is kind, Sirius is wonderful, and then Sirius is gone.

(9:47 pm) **home now, sorry I’m so late. went the the pub with Dorcas.**

(9:50 pm) _just finishing dinner with Lils_

(9:51 pm) **so late, Moony!**

(9:52 pm) _what do you mean???_

(9:53 pm) **you’ll have indigestion if you eat before bed!**

 (9:54 pm) _nahhhhhh I have a stomach of steel_

 (9:55 pm) **you can’t hear me but I’m snorting at you right now**

 (9:56 pm) _it’s not like I’ll be going to bed before midnight tonight anyway_

 (9:57 pm) **oh, who’s the lucky man?**

 (9:58 pm) _just this weirdo who keeps texting me and calling me all the time_

 (9:58 pm) **huh, he sounds like a pain. u should ditch him**

 (9:00 pm) _only if he ditches me first_

 (9:01 pm) **unlikely**

 (9:02 pm) _dinner’s over. Call?_

  


“Hallo Moony!”

 

Remus smiled. “Hi there. How was your day?”

 

“Well, I got to spend about an hour scrubbing the staff bathrooms, so that was nice.”

 

“Um. Is this a fetish I should be aware of?”

 

“Ha!” Sirius barked. “No, it just meant I got to escape the middle-aged women long enough to listen to an audiobook while I cleaned.”

 

“Neeeerd.”

 

“And how many books did you read today?”

 

“Oh. Um. Two and a half? But they were for school! Or at least, the first two were.”

 

Sirius sniggered. “You’re not helping your case.”

 

“Hush, you. What did you listen to during this cleaning marathon?”

 

“Return of the King.”

 

“Ohhh, perfect for your average toilet scrubbing.”

 

“Nothing like a battle between orcs and the dead to set the mood for chipping mildew from the baseboards.”

 

“Ew.” Remus stretched out, leaning his phone against his pillow and thrusting his hands behind his head. “One question though.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“How can you see the characters and stuff if you’re listening to the book rather than reading it?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Like… When I’m reading, every word builds into this picture in my head of what’s going on. I can’t imagine that would work if I were listening to a book. I’d be too distracted by the voice of the person reading it.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Is that not how it is for you?”

 

“Well, when I read off of paper the words tend to jumble themselves about a bit.”

 

“Oh, are you dyslexic?”

 

“Yeah, probably.”

 

“Probably?”

 

Sirius paused, and Remus wondered if he was shrugging. “Never got it confirmed.”

 

“Why on earth not?”

 

“My parents weren’t the type to believe in such nonsense as reading disorders.”

 

“Oh.” Remus didn’t know what to say.

 

Sirius let out a puff of air. “Yeah, much better to dismiss it as laziness. Easier to beat apathy out of a kid than a learning disability.”

 

There was a long pause.

 

“Remus?”

 

Remus was sitting up, fists clenched so hard that he could feel his nails biting into the flesh of his palms. His breath had stuck in his chest at the thought of a school-aged Sirius, struggling to keep up in his classes, told he was lazy and stupid and refused the help he needed.

 

“Remus? You alright?” Sirius’s seemed to be struggling to keep calm. “Remus?”

No answer.

 

“James!”

 

There was a distant shout of, “What!?”

 

“James, get in here!”

 

Footsteps, then: “What is it?”

 

“Can you call Lily? I don’t have her number.”

 

“Uh, yeah. Why?”

 

“Just do it!”

 

“Okay, okay. Here”

 

Lily’s voice crackled through the speaker as she answered. “What, James? It’s nearly eleven, and I work at four thirty tomorrow!”

 

“Lily, this is Sirius. I think Remus is having a panic attack.”

 

“Shit.” She hung up, and was at Remus’s door in a heartbeat. “Remus, I’m coming in.”

 

His mouth was open as his chest seized for air. His mind was spinning. He knew what it felt like for Sirius. Lupus was hard to diagnose in the best of circumstances, and Remus rarely found himself in the best of circumstances. Stiff joints and fatigue could look an awful lot like apathy and indifference, especially to underpaid elementary school teachers.

 

But Remus hadn’t been beaten for it, just looked down upon with pity and disappointment. His experience was nothing like Sirius’s and he was selfish for thinking such a thing. He was always so selfish, and now he was taking up Sirius’s time and Lily’s time with this needless panic attack. The vise around his lungs tightened.

 

“Breathe, Remus.” Lily was kneeling on the bed in front of him. “It’s alright, take your time. Breathe with me.”

 

He tried for what seemed like ages, air coming in great tearing gasps.

 

“That’s right. Do you need your medication?” Lily’s cool fingers found the pulse in his neck. “Your heart’s still racing, I think you should have some ativan. Lay back, I’ll bring it to you.”

 

Remus did as he was told, feeling like the most insufferable, disruptive child.

 

“Remus?” Sirius’s voice was soft, but it still made Remus jump. He had thought Sirius would’ve hung up by now.

 

Remus cleared his throat, trying to rid it of its remaining tightness. “Hmm?” He didn’t quite feel up to forming words.

 

“I’m here for you.”

 

Tears prickled behind Remus’s eyes. “Yeah.” He paused. “I’m sorry.”

 

“For what?”

 

Remus shook his head. He didn’t even know how to say it, how to sum up the massive inconvenience that was his existence in that moment.

 

“Remus, whatever it is, it’s alright. I feel absolutely nothing right now that you should be apologizing for. If anything, I’m sorry for triggering this. I won’t mention those things anymore, if that helps.”

 

“No! No, I want you to tell me stuff like that.” Remus took another deep breath, wishing his heart would stop pounding so his voice would come out steady. “It was my own head that caused this. Nothing you could have done to prevent it.”

 

There was a knock on Remus’s door. “Alright, here you go. Drink the rest of it, that’s right.”

 

“Thanks, Lils.” He squeezed her hand.

 

“Of course. Call if you need me?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Lily left the room, door snicking shut behind her.

 

Sirius spoke again.  “She’s a great friend, that Lily. She’d make a great mom, too.”

 

“She’s had plenty of practice, taking care of me.”

 

“Oh. That’s not what I meant, I’m sorry. I just meant she’s very caring, that’s all.”

 

Remus smiled tiredly. “That she is.”

 

There was a long pause.

 

“Do you want me to go?”

 

Remus blinked awake, wondering how long his eyes had been shut. “Oh, um. No, if that’s alright.”

 

“It is.”

 

“Tell James thanks for me?” Remus’s voice had taken on a blurry quality.

 

“I will. G’night, Moony.”

 

“Mmmm.”

 

They fell asleep together.

 

***

 

Exam season was approaching, and Remus hated everything. With a passion.

 

The only things keeping him going were his nightly phone calls with Sirius, and the thought of someday seeing him again. It had been only been a couple weeks since they had resumed contact, and already Remus felt that Sirius knew more about him than any of the friends he had made at university over the past year and a half. And this was despite the fact that they hadn’t seen each other since that evening at the Three Broomsticks. Part of Remus was glad that Sirius hadn’t asked to see him again, since he wasn’t sure he could speak properly when confronted with those eyes. But another part of him wondered why the other boy was holding back-- was Sirius waiting for him to make a move? Or did he just not want to see Remus again?

 

It hardly mattered to him at this point-- he didn’t have time to worry about such things. His days were a blur of work and study, which sometimes bled into his time with Sirius. He knew that Sirius understood, that he was happy to just sit and listen to Remus’s stereo through the phone as he drafted practice essay after practice essay. But still he longed for the day when he could wake up and do absolutely nothing-- nothing but talk to Sirius, of course.

 

So he kept trekking, intent upon keeping his grades up so that the scholarship money would keep pouring in. He kept up his rhythm with Sirius, and did his best not to feel overwhelmed.

  


One morning, Remus awoke to bright sunlight hitting his face.

 

He blinked resentfully at the sun-bathed ceiling, cursing Evening Remus for not having had the foresight to shut the curtains. He glanced around his room, feeling a little lost; there was something tickling at the back of his mind, telling him that he had forgotten something, or was missing something… Then his eyes locked onto his phone.

 

“Oh!” He grabbed for it, swiping quickly to get to his messages. He’d have to apologize to Sirius for missing his early morning message; apparently, Remus had slept through it. But when at last he fumbled his way to his messenger app, he found that his inbox lay empty.

 

Remus frowned, puzzled. He tried to recall anything about the previous night’s conversation that might’ve put Sirius off enough not to text him good morning. Sirius had been quieter than usual, content to ask questions, punctuating Remus’s replies with the occasional hum of interest. But he had seemed happy enough to be talking to Remus, and their goodnights had been just as fond and fumbling as usual.

 

Remus bit his lip, and typed out a message to Sirius.

 

(9:02 am) _Hey, are you alright? Missed your usual text this morning._

 

He stared at his phone for a moment, hoping futilely that Sirius would respond. But of course, the other man would be at work, and wouldn’t get to replying until later that morning.

 

So Remus set about his day. He drank the tea Lily had set out for him, and even ate a couple slices of toast with his meds. Then he set to his homework, drafting an essay that was due in a week and a half. He cursed himself for leaving it this late, but what with the mountains of readings he had had to catch up on, there really hadn’t been a choice.

 

After an hour or so of work, Remus allowed himself to check his messages. But his inbox still lay bare, and Remus couldn’t help but worry. What could he have said? Had he gone on too long about himself? He always wondered if he talked about himself too much around Sirius; the dark-haired boy had a habit of loosening Remus’s tongue, making him comfortable enough to say just about anything around him.

 

Remus shook himself. There was little use in worrying, and he didn’t want to spam Sirius’s inbox with clingy messages.

 

With little else to do, Remus got back to work. It was difficult to focus his attention away from his phone. Every few moments his gaze would wander back to it, his hands twitching to seize it and just _call_ Sirius. But he didn’t want to crowd the other boy if he was angry, and besides, Remus had never been good at making phone calls. Something about forcing his presence upon someone and having to give an immediate reason for doing so triggered a wriggling of worms in his gut.

 

At last, after several meagerly researched paragraphs, his phone buzzed. He scrambled for it, but it was only Lily.

 

(12:18 pm)  _Lebanese?_

 

(12:19 pm) _Sounds good :)_

 

About a half-hour later, Lily burst through the door, arms laden with fragrant take-away boxes, aggressively humming _Flight of the Valkyries_.

 

Remus stood stiffly to greet her, rolling his head to get the cricks out of his neck. “Nothing like a bit of Wagner to get a person in the mood for Lebanese.”

 

Lily grinned, still humming through her teeth, eyes wide as she managed a tricky chromatic passage.

 

“Impressive.” Remus made his way to the kitchen and put the kettle on, getting out a pair of mugs. He dumped some genmaicha in a strainer for Lily, and earl gray for himself. “Forks?”

 

“Nah, got plenty of flatbread.”

 

Remus nodded, retrieving two plates and setting them on the table.

 

“Ooooh, we’re eating sitting up? Fancy.” Lily sat down primly upon the edge of her seat, pretending to smooth out the creases in her dress. She smiled gratefully as Remus handed over her tea and slouched back into her chair as Remus took his seat across from her.

 

“How goes the essay?” Her green eyes were watchful over the brim of her mug.

 

He shrugged. “I’m pretty sure I’m writing a descriptive paper when it’s supposed to be argumentative, but it’s not like I’ve done enough research to support any sort of thesis, so…”

 

“Really well, then,” Lily quipped.

 

“Yep.” Remus gave a wry smile and started in on the man’oushe. “How was work?”

 

Lily didn’t answer, setting down her mug instead.

 

Remus glanced up at her. “What?”

 

She eyed him. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Huh?”  


A ginger eyebrow lifted. “What. Is. Wrong?”

 

“You’re creepy, you know.” Remus shoved another bit of flatbread in his mouth. “How the fuck could you tell?”

 

“You’ve met my eyes like twice since I got home? And you used an emoji today, Remus. An _emoji_.”

 

He snorted. “Right.”

 

“So?”

 

Remus shrugged. “Sirius hasn’t texted me today.”

 

“Oh, the humanity!” Lily’s eyes were dancing as she threw a hand over her forehead.

 

Remus scowled. “This hasn’t happened since…”

 

She sobered somewhat, dropping her hand back down to her mug. “Well, have you said anything to piss him off?”

 

“No, that’s the thing! Unless I’ve annoyed him without realizing it. He was a bit reticent last night, kept directing the conversation back to me. Maybe he’s tired?” _Or just tired of me._

 

Lily pursed her lips. “Well, give him the benefit of the doubt, Remus, and don’t assume anything is your fault. Probably something happened that made him forget to text you.”

 

Remus was staring at her, more worried now than ever. “What do you think could have happened?”

 

Lily burst out laughing. “I don’t mean, like, a house fire! I mean, maybe he woke up late for work and was in a rush, or caught the flu and is still asleep! Christ, Remus. Not everything is a catastrophe.”

 

“Was James at work today?”  


Lily frowned. “No, he took the day off. A bit unusual for him, actually. Maybe they’re out on a trip together?”

 

“I feel like he would have told me.”

 

“Well.” Lily gave him a sympathetic smile. “Do your best not to worry about it right now. If he still isn’t responding to your messages-- wait, you _have_ sent him messages, right?”

 

Remus nodded. “Sent him one this morning.”

 

“Right. Send him another, just to let him know you’re thinking of him. Anyway, if he still isn’t responding tonight, try calling him.”

 

Remus made a face.

 

“Or I can call James, pretend to chew him out for not showing up to work, and hope that he gives something away when he whinges that he booked the day off?”

 

“That’s more like it.”

 

After lunch, Lily disappeared into her room to work on a speech for one of her poli-sci classes, and Remus left for work. As he waited for the train, he constructed another text to Sirius, firing it off when at last he was happy with it.

 

(1:40 pm) _Sirius, I hope you’re doing okay. I’m going to work now, but I’ll be able to talk at 8 or so if you like._

 

Remus was thankful to work in a library, where he could go off and quietly shelve books for hours on end with barely a soul in sight whose head wasn’t bent over a desk. Marlene watched him worriedly from the front desk, and Mary gave him a warm smile every time they passed with their carts.

 

“Alright, Remus?” Marlene asked as they walked together after closing. “You seem a bit… I dunno…”

 

“Elsewhere,” Mary supplied. Marlene nodded.

 

“I’m fine, sorry. Got a big paper due next week.” Remus smiled at them, hoping to dispel their worry.

 

“Right,” Marlene said, although she didn’t look convinced. “Well, here’s where you leave us.” She gestured at the bus stop sign above her.

 

“See you tomorrow,” Remus said, smiling again. He turned toward the train station.

 

“Let us know if you need any help with research!” Mary called.

 

“Will do!”

 

It was nearly eight o’clock when Remus got home, and still there were no messages from Sirius. Lily was sprawled on the couch as Remus entered the living room, absorbed in an episode of the Great British Bakeoff.

 

“Mary Berry is my spirit animal,” she mumbled around a mouthful of fritos, eyes glued to the TV.

 

Remus dropped to the couch beside her. “What, no love for Paul the Greyback Gorilla?”

 

“Nah.”

 

Remus checked his phone again.

 

“No word from Sirius?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Shall I call James?”

 

“Would you?”

 

Lily pulled out her phone. She looked Remus directly in his eyes, holding his gaze and shaking her phone at him. “You owe me a scone for this. Fresh. Baked.”

 

“Will do.”

 

The phone rang a full one-and-a-half times before James picked up. “Lily, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

 

She rolled her eyes at Remus. “Care to explain why you didn’t show today?”

 

“What do you mean? I booked off!”

 

“Um, I’m pretty sure you didn’t.”

 

“I did, I swear! Did Molly forget to find a replacement?” James was sputtering.

 

Lily tried not to smirk. “Doubtful, that woman runs a tight ship.”

 

“I solemnly swear, Lily, I told her I’d be taking the day off.”

 

“Why did you, anyway?”

 

“Um, personal.” James pitched his voice down to a whisper. “Why are you asking? Do you like me or something? Oh, how embarrassing for you.”

 

“Oh, fuck off,” Lily said, although Remus thought he saw a flush rising to her cheeks. “Are you really not going to tell me?”

 

“‘Fraid not, Lilyflower.”

 

“Ugh. Fine.” She shrugged apologetically at Remus.

 

Someone was speaking in the background of James’ call.“Oh-- sorry Lily, I have to go. Have a good night!”

 

“Goodnight. Oh-- and James?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“If you ever call me Lilyflower again, it won’t just be salt I’ll be putting in your tea.”

 

James choked slightly. “Noted.” He hung up.

 

Lily stared at Remus. “I do believe that’s the first time he has ever voluntarily hung up on me.”

 

Remus’s mouth was pulled into a worried frown. “He sounded ok, though, right? He would’ve been more upset if something had happened to Sirius.”

 

Lily chewed her lip. “Yeah, that’s very true. He just sounded a bit distracted.”

 

They stared at each other for a second. Then Remus quirked an eyebrow. “What was that about putting salt in tea?”

 

Lily grinned.

 

Before he went to sleep, Remus sent Sirius one last text.

 

(11:23 pm) _Hey Sirius, this is the last one for today, I promise. I just wanted you to know that if you’re going through a hard time, I’m here for you. And if not, if you just don’t want to talk to me, I understand. Please sleep well._

 

The next morning, Remus awoke to a very short message.

  
(6:37 am) **Can I see you?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I accidentally wrote “Nothing like a battle between orcs and the dad” in that bit about the Return of the King, and spent about five minutes laughing before I fixed it.
> 
> Anyway, sorry it's up sooooo late, I hope you enjoyed! I'm not sure about the rhythm of this chapter, but I wanted to get it out to you sooner rather than later. Let me know what you think! I really appreciate your comments.
> 
> Oh, and find me on Tumblr, @vagueenthusiast :)


	7. At last, they talk.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius struggles, Remus self-doubts, and somehow, together, they have a magnificent first date.

_It really is winter,_ thought Remus as he shuffled along the sidewalk, breath trailing in crystallized puffs behind him. He pulled his sleeves over his knuckles, cursing himself for forgetting his fingerless gloves yet again. Lily would be on him about that.

 

The tree was just visible over the crest of a frosted hill, branches bare and coated in delicate white. It looked skeletal, nothing like the last time he had seen it. It had been full of green leaves and creamy pink blossoms then, and when he had stared up through its branches, the sun had peered back at him, dappling the ground beneath his splayed limbs.

 

Remus shook himself. That was another time, another Remus. He was here for Sirius now. A shock of iron-cold anxiety reverberated through his ribcage at the thought, and his feet dragged to a stop as his heart attempted to climb up his throat.

 

 _It’s only Sirius, it’s only him. He’s a friend, he won’t hurt you, he’ll understand if you can’t get the words right_ . Taking a few deep breaths, Remus turned onto the park path, wincing as the crunch of the gravel patch seemed to fill his ears past capacity. _Alright, Lupin, 5 things you can see._ A wooden park bench. A clump of frozen dog shit. His own scuffed brown shoes. A discarded plastic fork. Sirius Black.

 

There he was, pale and solemn and clad in a black overcoat. His hair was pulled back to reveal his face which, despite its drawn expression, was just as beautiful as Remus recalled. Silver eyes flashed as Remus neared, legs moving beneath him as though unaffected by the distinct blankness which had invaded his head. Sirius seemed to stand out from the background-- because that’s what the world became in his presence: background, blurred and dulled against the high-contrast masterpiece which was moving now toward Remus.

 

“Hello.” Sirius had stopped right in front of him, and was looking over his face with something like hunger.

 

“Hello, Sirius.” His voice was rough, but Remus was pleased that he had managed words at all. He had never been looked at like that before. “Are you--”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Oh, it’s--” Remus paused, remembering what Lily had told him as he left the house. _Only forgive him if he deserves it._ “What for?”

 

“Can we sit?” Sirius gestured at a swinging bench, a new installation since the last time Remus had visited the park.

 

“Yeah. Good idea.”

 

Remus stretched his long legs out in front of him, mostly so that he could stare at his shoes as Sirius spoke. He shoved his frozen hands into his pockets.

 

“I’m sorry I stopped responding to you. I know what that probably did to you, with your anxiety.”

 

 _It’s ok. You’re ok. I’m here and you’re with me._ “Why did you?”

 

Sirius kicked at the ground so that the bench jostled backward a little, then settled it into a steady rocking pattern. Remarkably, the motion soothed Remus’s nerves, and he found himself able to look at Sirius as he spoke.

 

“Um… my brother died.” Sirius’s eyes were on his hands, and his brows were twisted up as though he were puzzled. “A year ago. A year ago yesterday.”

 

Remus opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He thought about taking Sirius’s hand, because that seemed to be the thing to do, but he wasn’t sure Sirius would want to be touched. So he settled for silence.

 

“I took the day off work, and so did James and Peter. I knew things would be rough, but… I had no idea. I thought I’d be able to talk to you, but…” Sirius let a long breath out through his nose.  He shook his head, and his eyes fluttered closed. He seemed to have run out of words. Remus knew the feeling.

 

After a few beats, Sirius opened his eyes to look up at Remus. They widened, and he leaned towards Remus, placing a hand on the wooden planks between them to steady himself. “Re-- Moony?”

 

Remus blinked, and something wet dashed its way down his cheek. Quickly he swiped at it, embarrassed to be crying when it was Sirius who was in pain. “Sorry,” he muttered, and his voice was thick. “I’m so sorry.”

 

Sirius’s face twisted, just for a heartbeat, and he looked so young in that moment that Remus couldn’t help himself. He closed the space between them and wrapped one arm around Sirius’s neck, the hand of the other coming to rest on the back of the boy’s dark head, fingers buried in the hair just below the tangled bun.

 

Sirius stiffened, then seemed to deflate, all the tension he had been carrying leaving him in a span of seconds. He buried his face in Remus’s chest, shaking silently with the force of his grief. Remus found himself blinking back tears once more as he felt a damp patch spreading through the thick material of his jumper, just over his heart.

 

They stayed that way for what seemed like hours, or the briefest of moments. When at last Sirius pulled away, he was smiling through his tears. He dragged a sleeve over his face, then looked up at Remus. “Blimey, your hands are cold.”

 

On the way to the Three Broomsticks, which they had decided upon as the coziest and least threatening spot to get warm, Sirius insisted upon stowing Remus’s hand in his pocket, despite the fact that Remus had two perfectly good pockets of his own. He conveniently left his own hand in there as well, loosely cradling Remus’s fingers. “For warmth,” he had said, although the great cheesy wink he delivered had slightly ruined the sincerity in his tone.

 

They chose a spot near the back of the cafe, tucked in an alcove beside the enormous blazing fireplace. Remus grinned at Lily, giving her a subtle thumbs-up before burying himself in his favourite armchair. Sirius left him to shed his layers, returning after a moment with two steaming mugs. Remus wrapped his hands around his cup, then lifted it to his lips. His eyebrows jumped at the taste; he looked up at Sirius, who was sprawled in his chair, smirking at Remus over his London Fog.

 

“What is this?” Remus took another sip, letting the smooth, dark taste glide over his tongue.

 

“Hot chocolate,” Sirius intoned. “It’s what you got last time we were here.”

 

Remus shook his head. “While I am flattered that you remembered my order, this is one-hundred percent _not_ what I was drinking last time.”

 

Sirius gave a lazy shrug. “I may have… tweaked the recipe slightly.”

 

Remus eyed him in mock-distrust. “Sirius Black, what did you put in my drink?”

 

Sirius’s whole body stilled. Remus sat forward, hastily setting down his drink. “What is it? What have I said?”

 

Sirius let all his breath out at once, blinking a few times before dragging his eyes back to Remus’.  The colour slowly returned to his face. “Bit of cinnamon and nutmeg, a dash of Baileys, and cocoa powder in the whipped cream.”

 

“Sirius--”

 

“It’s fine, Moony.”

 

The use of his nickname did little to reassure Remus, but he let it go anyway, tucking the moment into the back of his mind, to be pulled out and analysed later. He took another sip.

 

“This is the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

 

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Hmmm, well we’ll have to remedy that, won’t we?”

 

Remus stared for a second, then felt a flush creep up his neck as he understood Sirius’s words. He tried to hide it by taking another drink, but he could see Sirius’s eyes dancing as he watched Remus squirm.

 

But after a full minute passed with Remus still failing to respond, Sirius’s mirth seemed to fade. He tilted his head, and spoke quietly. “Too much?”

 

Remus bit his lip. “A little.” He wasn’t sure why, but Sirius’s teasing had made him intensely uncomfortable. He knew Sirius had been flirting, but somehow, the words had felt like a threat.

 

“Noted. I’m sorry.”

 

Remus shook his head in dismissal of the apology, still processing his own startling reaction. This was _Sirius_ , a person for whom the intensity of his own feelings was beginning to frighten him. If there was anyone he’d want flirting with him, it would be the dark-haired boy sitting across from him.

 

Sirius seemed to understand Remus’s need for a change of topic. “So, how’s school? Still writing that essay?”

 

They talked about nothing for a while, and it felt just like their phone calls. They made fun of Sirius’s customers, discussed Remus’s most recent literary conquests, and, when a favourite song of theirs came on over the speakers, they talked about music.

 

“Did you know this one is based on a book by Margaret Atwood?”

 

“Is it? No wonder the words don’t make any sense,” Sirius mused, foot moving in slow circles where it rested on his knee.

 

“Do they ever?”

 

“True, Dan has a penchant for nonsensical gibberish.”

 

Remus smiled. “Beautiful gibberish.”

 

Sirius inclined his head in agreement. They listened in silence a little while longer.

 

_I still feel the cadence_

_Of a former life_

_I put faith in mayday_

_But it don't feel right._

 

After a moment, Remus peered at Sirius. “Did you never wonder why the song is called Offred?”

 

“Oh, I never remember the names of things.” Sirius waved a hand.

 

“You remember _my_ name.” Remus drained the last delicious dregs of chocolate from his mug.

 

“That’s ‘cos you’re special.”

 

Remus blushed again, but it felt good. Sirius was smiling at him, and the whole exchange felt less predatory this time. It felt right.

 

Sirius stretched. “I’m so glad to have a James working here for me to nag about good music. I think it contributes to the specialness of this place.”

 

Remus laughed. “Ha! Is that why I caught them playing the soundtrack to the Hobbit one afternoon?”

 

“Nah, that one was all James.”

 

Remus snorted, then froze as a realization washed over him. “Wait, you… _You’re_ why they play Dan Mangan here?”

 

Sirius shrugged. “Yeah.”

 

Remus’s heart was hammering. “I… I first heard his music here.” How he had never put this together, he had no idea. He had even told Sirius that he knew of Dan Mangan because his favourite cafe played his songs.

 

Sirius stared. “Oh,” he said. “ _Oh_.”

 

“That was over a year ago,” Remus breathed. _You’ve been in my life for over a year._

 

“Wow.”

 

They stared at each other as silence stretched between them.

 

“MY CHILDREN!”

 

They both jumped. Remus peered round the corner of their alcove and spotted James, who was approaching with his arms flung wide.

 

“Shove off, James,” Sirius sighed, but he was grinning.

 

“Come. Here.” James punctuated each word by wrapping an arm around each of their heads, pulling them to his chest like a mother hen gathering her chicks under her wings. He cut through Sirius’s muffled protests with a sing-song query: “How is the daaaate?”

 

Remus felt his cheeks flare with heat at the casual use of the word. When at last Sirius succeeded in freeing himself, James released Remus as well.

 

“We’re fine, James. Why are you here?” Sirius glared at his intruding friend, carefully patting his hair to make sure no unintentional strands had gotten loose.

 

“No love for your mother,” James sighed. “And after everything I have done for you.”

 

Sirius waited, eyebrow cocked.

 

James caved. “Lily sent me over to get your orders before she left.”

 

“Our orders?”

 

“Yes. She insists that Remus eat, since he skipped breakfast this morning.”

 

Sirius’s head whipped round toward Remus, who steadfastly ignored him, choosing to address James instead. “I’m alright, really.”

 

Sirius made a sound of protest. “It’s nearly three-o’clock, Remus!”

 

Remus stared down at his hands. His stomach felt hollow, it was true. But today was just one of many days for him when food seemed so trivial, so completely not worth the bother.

 

“We’ll both have a grilled cheese with tomato soup. And another hot chocolate for Remus, but this time, cut the Baileys and add a bit of cayenne. And I’ll have a coffee. Black.”

 

“Ahhhh, so many options for surname humour,” James sighed as he jotted down the order. Remus opened his mouth to protest, but James cut him off. “Perfect! It’ll be around fifteen minutes, but I’ll bring your drinks over right away.”

 

“Such service!” Cried Sirius as James walked away, swinging his hips exaggeratedly as he went. Sirius wolf-whistled.

 

Then he turned back to Remus, and silence fell between them as Remus avoided his gaze.

 

“How often do you skip meals?”

 

“I’m fine. Lily feeds me regularly.”

 

“You shouldn’t need Lily to feed you.”

 

That stung, and Remus bit his lip, hard.

 

Sirius sat forward in his seat, stilling Remus’s fidgeting hands with his own. “I didn’t mean it like that, Moony, I’m sorry. I’m not implying that you’re a bother to her, I’m sure she’s happy to do it. I just meant that you should want to take care of yourself.”

 

Remus wasn’t sure he could speak. And even if he could, he had no idea how to say that his body was the last thing he ever wanted to think about, and that included feeding it. It was enough, he thought, that he took pills every day simply to function. How dare it demand food as well?

 

Sirius squeezed his hands. “Alright, Moony. From here on out, I solemnly swear to keep your hands warm, and your stomach full. Okay?”

 

Despite the sting of fresh tears for the third time that day, Remus lifted his head to meet Sirius’s eyes. Steadying his voice, he replied, “And I promise to be here for you whenever you need to talk. About anything.”

 

When James returned with the food, they ate in companionable silence, glancing up occasionally to smile at each other as Jeff Buckley crooned about Lilac Wine.

 

It was the first time Remus could recall enjoying a meal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep.
> 
> As some of you may have noticed, I have updated the tags on this work. I wasn't sure whether I would go this direction with Remus, but I think that there needs to be a bit more representation in this community, and it feels right for this story. I'm really excited about where it's going, and I hope you are too!
> 
> Anyway, as usual I would love to hear what you thought of this chapter! Thank you so much for your continued support <3 And of course you can find me on Tumblr where I'm @vagueenthusiast. Don't be shy!


	8. Fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're figuring each other out, slowly but surely.

Remus was a whirring ball of stress. As soon as he had finished his paper, another came due, and the end of November meant the start of exams. His nightly calls with Sirius consisted of Abba, George Michael, and Remus’s frustrated sighs as he sifted through passage after passage of rhetoric. Occasionally he would read bits of it out loud, and Sirius would groan at the thick language and abstract theories.

 

“What the hell is a ‘freewheeling dingbat dingbat’? What is this guy on?”

 

“Tufte is very passionate in his fight against PowerPoint.”

 

“Ugh, this man needs a life. Or possibly a lay. Why are you taking this Communications class, again?”

 

Lily, meanwhile, had only one exam, right at the start of December. The rest of her classes had ended with speeches and presentations; for one, all she had to do was prove that she had demonstrated against something at some point in the semester. She handed in a short video of herself and Remus conducting a two-person sit-in at the Starbucks which had just opened across the street from the Three Broomsticks. They had borne Broomsticks-branded coffee cups and taken up three whole tables, glaring round at anyone who dared approach. When at last the manager of the joint had appeared, Lily had given him a speech about the corporate nature of Starbucks, and how it capitalized off of the faux-acceptance of diversity while still limiting the self-expression of its employees in how they dressed and wore their hair. The manager, a greasy-haired fellow who had apparently defected from the Three Broomsticks after Lily herself had rejected him, had given her a sour sneer before showing them the door.

 

Lily boarded a train for home a week before Remus’s first exam and two weeks before Christmas, looking dolefully at him as they said their goodbyes. “I’ll call you every day, ok?”

 

“I know.”

 

“Make sure to eat--”

 

“I  _ know _ , Lils.”

 

She stared at him a moment. “I wish you could come home too.”

 

Remus gave her a mournful smile. “Yeah. But the train fare just wouldn’t be worth such a short trip.”

 

She threw her arms around his neck. “Curse your late exam dates.” She kissed him on the ear, and he wriggled away, scrunching his face at her.

 

“You’re gross.”

 

She grinned. He smiled back at her, trying not to resent her for her homebound happiness, even as his chest tightened at the thought of his parents, without him on Christmas.

 

“Happy holidays, Lils.” He handed her a little rectangular parcel, and gave her a proper kiss on the cheek.

 

“You too, Rem. I left your present on the table, do  _ not _ open it before Christmas. I  _ will _ know.” She glared threateningly at him. Remus had no doubt that she would.

 

She waved at him from her spot by the window until the train sped, turned, and was out of sight.

 

Remus returned to an empty flat.

 

***

 

Other than during his single shift at the library, it was a few days before Remus saw the face of anybody but the various twentieth century literary geniuses he was quickly beginning to hate, for all their irritating birth and death dates.  _ Why couldn’t they all’ve just picked one day to die, instead of spreading themselves out across decades? Fucking rude.  _ His reprieve came in the form of Sirius, who had the weekends off and demanded that he be allowed to take Remus out, goddamnit.

 

“I can’t be out too long, I’ve still got to read at least three chapters tonight if I’m to stay on tr--”

 

Sirius’s sigh of irritation was audible even over the sweet, sweet crooning of Careless Whisper. “You’ve been reading for a week, Remus! Take a break!” 

“A  _ break _ ?” Remus huffed. “I’ve got an exam in three days, and I’ve still got a book and a half to read before I can properly start to study for it.”

 

Remus could practically hear Sirius put a hand to his heart. “Remus, on my gentleman’s honour, I promise that I shall have you back home by eight o’clock.”

 

Remus snorted. 

 

“Great! See you tomorrow, 5:30!”

 

Sirius met him on his front steps, watching Remus descend with the air of a dog waiting for his ball. He grinned as Remus joined him at last, reaching for his hand. “Right. Where are we going?”

 

Remus raised an exasperated eyebrow, ignoring the jolt of electricity which ran up his arm at Sirius’s touch. “You’re the one who insisted upon this venture, Pippin. Did you not have a plan?”

 

Sirius blinked up at him. “Plan?” He tilted his head. “What is this word?”

 

Remus rolled his eyes. “Well, I suppose we could just walk. Go into whatever shops catch our fancy.”

 

“I like this idea.” Sirius pulled Remus’s hand into his pocket, pulling him down the street and grinning as his cheeks flamed redder than usual in the yellow light of a streetlamp. 

 

They walked in companionable silence for a time, broken only by Sirius’s quiet squeals at passing dogs. Remus kept the pace slow, half because he liked the meandering feeling of it, wandering aimlessly down the street with Sirius’s hand around his own. He tried not to think too hard about the other half of the reason; focusing on the hot, dry ache in his joints was not conducive to a good date.

 

“Mmm.” He felt a tug on his hand. “Let’s go in here.”

 

It was an art supply shop. The interior was eclectic and slightly overwhelming, and Sirius looked instantly at home in the space as his bright eyes lit upon item after item. Remus followed him as he perused stacks of sketchbooks, towering shelves of paints, and walls and walls of pencils and pens. 

 

Sirius touched absolutely  _ everything _ . He ran graceful fingers up the spine of a book, brushed a knuckle against the bristles of a fat paintbrush, grazed his palm against the surface of a canvas. Something about watching Sirius’s hands, watching the gentleness with which he handled each object, put Remus into a sort of floating trance. By the time Sirius settled on a small square pad of pink-tinged paper and a pack of oil pastels, he was nearly drooling. “Alright, Remus?” 

 

The artsy girl behind the counter eyed Sirius unabashedly as she rang up his purchase. He flashed her a grin as they left, and her large eyes blinked after him from behind enormous glassless spectacles. Remus felt a tug of something in his chest, and it was he who reached for Sirius’s hand as they continued down the street. Sirius babbled happily as they walked, new purchase swinging from his wrist.

 

“--I mean, I suppose one single tennis ball wasn’t really worth nearly falling to our deaths, but it would’ve killed me knowing it was up there and I couldn’t reach it--” Sirius broke off.

 

Remus had emitted a small sound of excitement, having halted in the warm glow of a storefront. Sirius followed his gaze. “Ahhh, yes. Shall we?”

 

They entered the bookstore together, and Remus quickly guided Sirius to the fiction section. “Have you tried listening to this?” He held up a copy of _The_ _Night Circus_. “It’s read by this guy named Jim Dale, it’s one of the only audiobooks I can properly visualize.” He smiled dreamily. “There’s something about his voice that makes me feel at home. I want him to narrate my life.”

 

Sirius grinned. “Let me write it down.” He pulled a pencil from his hair and scribbled the title on his new pad of drawing paper.

 

“Oh, and try this one, while you’re at it!” Remus guided him around the shop, pointing out book after book. Sirius was familiar with most of the high fantasy novels Remus recommended, but had somehow never heard of  _ Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy _ .

 

“Pads. You won’t get half the references I make until you read these. Write it down.”

 

They stumbled upon a copy of  _ Stardust _ , with a beautiful old-style fantasy cover. Remus fondled it lovingly. “Look at its shape, too! There’s something special about its shape.”

 

Sirius nodded solemnly. “It’s far more rectangular than your average book.”

 

“Yeah, exactly! It’s--” Remus caught Sirius’s expression. “You’re making fun of me.”

 

“Yes, but only a little.” Sirius’s eyes were dancing. Then, without warning, he stood on his tiptoes, grabbed Remus by the collar, and planted a kiss firmly on his cheek. 

 

Remus stared dumbfoundedly after him as Sirius wove away toward the counter, and his fingers floated up unbidden to touch the white hot print Sirius’s mouth had left. It took him nearly a minute to realize that Sirius had slipped  _ Stardust  _ from his grasp and was already in the process of paying for it. 

 

When Remus joined him, objecting uncomfortably as Sirius pocketed his slightly lighter wallet, the clerk’s eyes lit up in recognition.

 

“You! Hey, how are you?”

 

Remus stared at her. “Um. Fine?”

 

She smiled. “Glad to hear it. Last time you were in here, you were in a bit of a state.”

 

Remus’s brows lowered in confusion.

 

“Oh-- do you not remember? You were sat over there for hours, reading the same page over and over again!” She gestured at a spot on the floor.

 

“Oh.” He took the proffered bag. 

 

The clerk glanced between him and Sirius, who was looking quietly at Remus, eyes unreadable beneath the dark shadow of his brow.

 

“Er-- sorry. Maybe I’ve got you confused with someone…?” She trailed off, looking bewildered. He smiled tiredly at her, feeling suddenly and immeasurably heavy.

 

“It’s fine.” He turned from the counter, calling over his shoulder, “So long, and thanks for all the fish!” 

 

They left.

 

“Fish?” Sirius cocked an eyebrow at Remus, although a frown still played round his mouth.

 

“Oh, just wait. I’ll have you fluent in Douglas Adams in no time.” Remus grinned at Sirius, hoping to dispel the worry that had settled itself in the other boy’s eyes. Sirius’s frown only deepened.

 

Remus faltered. “I should… I should probably get back.” It wasn’t a lie. Remus really did have more studying to do, and his exchange with the store clerk had drained him of what energy he had had left. His knees were aching from bending to get at the lower shelves, and a headache had started behind his eyes.

 

Sirius nodded. “Right. Of course, I’m feeding you first.”

 

“Oh, that’s--”

 

“C’mon, it’ll be quick.”

 

Ignoring his protests-- _ “I’m fucking loaded, Moony”-- _ Sirius purchased him a cheese croissant and a cup of fruit from a nearby cafe, and they sat at a table outside as Remus ate. Sirius had bought himself a coffee, but Remus had not yet seen him take a sip.

 

“So, what is the goal?”

 

Remus glanced up. “Goal?”

 

Sirius’s eyes were dark, his tone adamant. “You’re studying literature, and you adore fiction. Are you planning to write a book, or become a professor, or work your way up at the library?”

 

Remus wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Um.” The questions had come out of nowhere, and there was no hint of smile in Sirius’s voice. Remus stole himself, then said, “I’m not sure I want to talk to you about that right now.” His heart was hammering as he awaited Sirius’s angry retort.

 

But Sirius only nodded. “But you do have one? A goal, I mean?”

 

“Yeah, I do. It’s a little amorphous, currently, but…” He trailed off. As he had spoken, the tension that had been present in Sirius’s shoulders since they had left the bookshop had dropped off all at once, and Sirius was smiling again, albeit weakly.

 

Remus stared. 

 

Sirius cleared his throat, then looked down at his hands. “I needed to know that you had plans. For the future.”

 

Remus waited.

 

After a sip of coffee, Sirius spoke again, quietly. “Regulus never talked about his plans.”

 

“Regulus?” But Remus knew before Sirius even had to say it. He could read it in his downcast eyes, in the downward curve of his mouth and the hard line his jaw made as his mouth worked around the words.

 

“My brother.”

 

Remus held very still, but it became clear that Sirius had no more to say. Remus sat back in his chair. “I am writing a book. It’s been in my head for years, and I’ve got pages and pages of notes. I just need to sit down and weave it all together. I do not plan to… to go anywhere before I finish it. And after that, maybe I’ll see about becoming a professor.”

 

Sirius nodded.

 

“What about you? Do you have any plans?”

 

“Mmm,” Sirius gave a small, crooked smile. “I was studying to be an architect, before…”

 

Remus gave a slow nod, remembering that Sirius had mentioned this in his messages from so long ago. “And is that still what you would like to do?” 

 

A pause. “I guess... I guess I’m not sure. It’s hard for me to think about. Moving on, I mean. Making plans.”

 

And Remus could hear the words suspended in the air, the ‘ _ without him’ _ that Sirius had left unsaid. “Well, I could see you as an architect.”

 

Sirius looked up at him, and there was an openness, an expression of near-pleading hope in his face that pulled at Remus’s heart. “You think?”

 

“Of course, Pads.” Remus reached over and put a hand on Sirius’s knee. Sirius blushed, but Remus pushed past that astonishing fact; he had something he needed to say. “Sirius, you’re obviously artistic, and you’re certainly smart enough… but there’s something else, too.”

 

Sirius watched hungrily as Remus formulated his next few words.

 

He thought of the careful attention Sirius gave everything he touched, everything he looked at. He realized suddenly that he loved it, loved the improbable contrast between Sirius’s wind-swept appearance, his fuck-off attitude-- and his quiet consideration of everything, everyone around him. And the words came to him, precise and all in a row as though they had been waiting there just behind his tongue. “You’re chasing beauty.” 

 

Sirius blinked. They stared at each other for a moment, and Remus watched in mild alarm as emotion after emotion flickered across Sirius’s face. Then the dark-haired man cleared his throat, and broke their gaze. “Right, um. Home?”

 

“Yeah.” Remus’s voice ghosted on the word.

 

Together, they walked back to Remus’s flat. Sirius’s grasp on his hand was loose, and a void of silence followed just behind each footfall.

 

“Thank you for getting me out of the house for a few hours,” Remus said tentatively as they neared his door. “I was getting a bit of cabin fever.”

 

“Of course. My pleasure.”

 

“And thank you again for the food--”

 

“Remus.” Sirius pulled him to a halt.

 

“Mmm?” Remus tensed, sensing the beginning of another difficult conversation.

 

Sirius’s eyes were sober as he they raked across Remus’s face. “Why?”

 

“Why what?”

 

“Why were you sat alone for hours on the floor of a book shop?”

 

Remus’s heart fell. He shrugged, trying to play it all off somehow as Not a Big Deal. “I don’t remember much about that day.”

 

“That day. Which day was it?”

 

Remus shook his head dismissively. “It’s all in the past, and obviously I’m fine now, I just--”

 

“Remus, please. Why did you end up on that bookshop floor?”

 

Remus shut his mouth, staring down at Sirius. The other man’s eyes were shining, and there was a hardness in them that looked to Remus like anger. He pulled his hand from Sirius’s pocket.

 

“Goodnight, Sirius.” He could feel a blue cold wall building itself up just behind his eyes, so that his face felt like a mask. His features felt far away. He could not tell if he was smiling. 

 

Sirius’s eyebrows twisted up and he opened his mouth to say something, but Remus was already turning away from him, climbing up the steps, digging out his keys.

 

“Wait-- Moony! Wait.” Sirius caught Remus’s arm. “I’m sorry,” he said, when Remus refused to look at him. “I’m sorry.”

 

Remus stood for a moment, staring down at the pale fingers wrapped around his forearm, trying to believe that Sirius meant it, that the words were not being wielded as means of manipulation.

 

The fingers slackened, slid down to his hand. “Moony.”

 

Remus looked up.

 

Instantly his doubts fled. Sincerity emanated from Sirius in waves, radiating from every facet of his expression. Remus relaxed. 

 

Sirius was biting his lip. “I just wanted to know if it was… if it was my fault.”

 

“Oh.” 

 

“What did you think I was asking?”

 

“I-- I thought… I dunno. That you were asking why I’m so f--fucked up.” 

 

Sirius shook his head so hard that he looked to Remus like a dog shaking itself dry. His free hand sought Remus’s, clasped it. “I’d never-- Remus.” And his name was a sigh, a sob. “I am the king of fucked up. I’d never ask such a shitty question. And never of you.”

 

“R--right.” Remus’s head was spinning.  _ Never of you _ .

 

“Do you need to sit?”

 

Remus nodded, and together they sat on the top step of Remus’s stoop.

 

“Anything I can do?” 

 

“You’re already d--doing it.” It wasn’t quite a panic attack, just the simmering beginnings of one, already on its way to fading. He could fight it back, he could do this.  _ Five things you can see. _

 

_ One: Heavy black boots on Sirius’s feet. _

 

Remus’s breathing slowed.

 

_ Two: Loose threads spidering from a hole in Sirius’s jeans. _

 

His heart began to steady.

 

_ Three: Sirius’s hand, still wrapped tightly around Remus’s fingers. _

 

His expression smoothed.

 

_ Four: Silver eyes on Remus’s, flicking down to his mouth, and up again. _

 

“Oh,” Remus said, before Sirius kissed him.

 

It was a soft thing; confession and redress, plea and prayer. Remus froze, and Sirius’s mouth lifted from his, the beginnings of an apology already on his lips. But before a word could be uttered, Remus reached up, buried his fingers in thick, dark hair, and pulled the kiss back into being. Slowly, carefully, they spelled it out in pushes and pulls, unraveled it in short gasps, and put it all back together with the tips of their tongues. Then they broke apart.

 

_ Five: The exultant smile of Sirius Black. _

 

Remus glanced down at his watch: 8:45. He showed the time to Sirius. “‘Gentleman’ my ass.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was REAL DIFFICULT LET ME TELL YOU
> 
> Turns out I've. Never actually written a kiss before?
> 
> Anyway, if you'd like to ~~validate me~~ talk to me about this work or anything else at all, my Tumblr is @vagueenthusiast. And of course, I love hearing from you here as well!
> 
> p.s. Yes Tufte is real and yes he does care far too much about PowerPoint. Also, I'm sorry if your uni exams work differently from mine-- for me, they start in December and go all the way up till like the 20th. I'm just writing what I know, folks


	9. Spiral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isolated, Remus spirals. Will Sirius catch him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the wondrous [flora_tyronelle](http://archiveofourown.org/users/flora_tyronelle/pseuds/flora_tyronelle).
> 
> Trigger Warning: Detailed description of depression and isolation (including lack of self-care). Take care of yourselves, everyone.

(4:27 am)  **good morning sunshine <3**

 

(11:13 am)  **hope ur studying is going well**

 

(8:31 pm)  **yo moono, hope your day was good! you ready to call?**

 

(9:00 pm)  **Remus, you good?**

 

(9:13 pm)  **I hope you’re sleeping now or sth. You deserve it :***

 

The messages buzzed through Remus’s phone where it sat on his bedside table. Remus himself was far away, though he sat in the next room.

 

He finished the final reading for his first exam the evening before it was to take place. He spent the rest of the night cramming, for the first time in his life. When his alarm rang at 7:30 the following morning, Remus peeled his face off the table, walked into his bedroom, and turned it off. He took Kit for a walk round the block, moving as quickly as his joints would allow. Then he left to sit the test.

 

(8:00 am)  **good luck on your exam <3**

 

Three hours and twenty-seven minutes later, he was sat back at the table, the notes for his second exam spread out in front of him. He stared blankly at them for half an hour, then pulled out a highlighter and went to work. His face was blank. He got up only once, to eject the meager contents of his belly. Kit sniffed worriedly round his heels as he rinsed his mouth out, avoiding his own red-rimmed eyes in the mirror. Then he returned to his studying.

 

(9:49 pm)  **I hope you’re ok and just busy**

 

(11:02 am)  **I’m here for you**

 

At work the next day, Remus was efficient. When Mary and Marlene saw him, they joked about the bags under his eyes, reminiscing on their own sleep-deprived stints at university. He laughed. When he stepped away to re-shelve some books, they exchanged worried glances.

 

(8:32 pm)  **hey, hope work was ok. Do you wanna call?**

 

(9:12 pm)  **I guess not**

 

(10:12 pm)  **moony i’m sure lily has been drilling you about this but**

(10:13 pm)  **I really hope you’re eating**

(10:13 pm)  **sorry i know it’s a sensitive subject but**

(10:13 pm)  **i promised and i worry**

 

Remus sat his second final the next day. When it was over, his classmates funnelled out of the room, comparing answers and discussing their plans for Christmas. He trailed behind them, and it was a mark of his consistently quiet disposition that nobody noticed the glaze to his eyes, or the smile that looked more like a crack spreading in a wall than an expression of joy.

 

When he got home, he sat down on the couch. He did not take his rucksack off. He did not turn the lights on. Only when Lily called did he move, and each lie he told her was like swallowing a ball of lead; heavy, trailing cold from throat to gut.

 

(11:22 am)   **ok i got prongs to call Lily and she said you’ve been really off with her over the phone over the past couple days, when you’ve bothered to answer her at all**

(11:24 am)   **so**

(11:25 am)  **I’m coming over because neither of us are sure you’re eating**

(11:26 am)   _ fuck sorry sorry sorry for not answering you  _

(11:27 am)  _ just been a bit overwhelmed _

(11:27 am)  _ I’m sorry but please don’t come over _

(11:27 am)   **jesus fucking christ remus**

(11:29 am)  _ sorry _

(11:30 am)   **stop apologizing**

(11:31 am)   **why can’t I come over? I’ll just drop off some food and get out of your hair, promise**

(11:33 am)  _ no no no please don’t i can’t _

(11:35 am)  **can’t what?**

(11:36 am)  _ see you _

(11:37 am)  _ I’m sorry _

(11:38 am)  **oh**

(11:38 am)  **can we call? It’ll be quick**

(11:45 am)  **moony please**

(11:53 am)  _ ok _

 

“Moony?”

 

A pause. “Hi, Sirius.” Remus’s voice was precise and controlled, a perfect counterpoint to his panicked texts.

 

Sirius let go of the air in his lungs, and relief filled every corner of the sound. Remus carefully schooled his face into an expression of polite indifference. It didn’t matter that there was nobody there to see it, that there hadn’t been for days.

 

Sirius spoke. “Ok. Let’s start with how you are. Have you been eating? Taking your meds? Lily was really worried about that.”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“Yes or no, Remus.”

 

“I’ve been taking my meds, Sirius.”

 

“Ok. Ok, that’s good. How is your…”

 

“My lupus? Been better, been worse.”

 

Another pause. Remus pictured Sirius biting his lip. He quickly chased that thought out of his mind.

 

“Anything I can do?” Sirius spoke lightly, and Remus could tell that he was trying to keep the worry from his tone.

 

“Nope. I’ll be--”

 

“Fine. Right, of course.”

 

“Look, Sirius, I’ve got a metric shit-tonne of studying to do, can we continue this another time?”

 

“Of course, just one more thing.”

 

Remus allowed himself a sigh. “Alright, Sirius, what is it?”

 

“Fuck, Remus, you sound like my mother.”

 

Something clutched at Remus, like a rope cinched too tight around his waist, forcing regret and panic and longing up into his throat like bile, threatened to spill it all over in a tide of words that he knew once started could not be stopped until they ran out, ran down, ran away without him.

 

Sirius seemed to gather this from the small sound that slipped out of Remus before he meticulously tugged his psyche back into a wrinkleless plane. “Sorry, sorry Remus. I didn’t mean that. I’m just… worried. And frustrated. I-- I get very tense when I’m like this. It’s not your fault.”

 

“Ok.”

 

“I mean that.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Sirius expelled another puff of air, although this one seemed directed at himself. “Right. Well, what I wanted to ask was… is this about the kiss? I didn’t think so at first because I know you’re busy, so I just assumed -- or maybe hoped? I don’t know -- that the not responding had nothing to do with me, but…” He was babbling, and seemed to realize it. “Ok, I’m sorry about this: I told Lily. What happened, with us. The kiss.” He paused, seemingly waiting for a reaction. Remus gave him none, although his knuckles were white where they clutched his phone.

 

“And. She got kinda quiet? I told her you seemed happy about it, afterward. Which you did, I mean I thought you did.” Sirius went quiet again.

 

This time, Remus let himself respond. “I  _ was _ happy.” He was skating on clear, thin ice just above his emotions-- but he could afford to admit to that much. For Sirius.

 

“Oh. Well, what Lily said was that… You hadn’t really-- er. Done that before? The whole, y’know, kissing thing?”

 

Remus closed his eyes. Cracks were forming now, fine and spreading slow. When he opened his eyes, the room seemed darker than before.

 

“Remus?”

 

“I’m here.”

 

“Well. Is-- is that true?”

 

Remus prepared himself for the prying questions, the incredulous remarks, the exclamations of  _ how have you never been kissed, at nearly 20 years old?  _ “It is.”

 

“Ah. Well, I wish I’d known.”

 

“Why?”

 

“ _ Why? _ I would’ve… I dunno. Been more careful, or something.”

 

Remus snorted. “You weren’t exactly rough. It was just a kiss, Sirius. It was good, I enjoyed it, you have nothing to feel sorry for.” A little piece of him--the bit right at the back that still retained some Him-ness--marvelled at his boldness. Any other day and his face would have been flaming red.

 

“Well, I didn’t mean careful like-- I’m sorry, I’m not--” a huff of frustration. “I’m having trouble saying what I mean.”

 

That, Remus understood.

 

Sirius tried again. “So. You’re ok, with the kiss?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Oh. Well, good.” There was a bit of a smile in Sirius’s voice now, and although Remus felt about as far away from smiling as a worm does from the sun, he was glad.

 

And he hadn’t even lied, not exactly. He  _ had _ been ok with the kiss. Thrilled, even. But the implications behind it, the prospect of what would soon be expected of him, the roiling mass of confusion and fear that pitched magma-like in his head and throat and chest…That, he was not ok with. 

 

But he did not have time to think about it. He had two exams to sit tomorrow, and he hadn’t so much as glanced at his notes that day.

 

“I’ve got to go, Sirius. I’ll try to be better about answering your messages, and I’ll be sure to call Lily tonight.”

 

“Ok, yeah.” Sirius’s voice was small, like that of a child accepting an apology from a parent; unexpectedly placated. “Good luck on the rest of your exams. I-- um. Make sure to have some lunch.”

 

“Goodbye, Pads.” Remus hung up.

 

He studied, drank half a cup of tea, and, before bed, forced a bit of toast down his gullet along with his meds. He did not sleep well. 

 

He sat his last two exams the next day; one in the morning, and one in the afternoon. He gave short, reassuring answers to Sirius’s texts in between, and allowed Lily to berate him on taking his medications and answering his phone. Each conversation succeeded only in making him feel alone, and a little more like a child. He felt no relief as he left his fourth and final exam, only exhaustion at the prospect of facing Christmas on his own.

 

Sirius insisted upon a call that evening. Remus had little to say, but Sirius seemed to understand. They listened to music as Remus faded in and out of consciousness, punctuated only by the occasional gentle comment from Sirius. Before he said goodnight, Sirius asked to see Remus in celebration of the end of his semester. Remus politely declined, joking weakly that he was hoping to sleep for at least a week. Sirius pouted only a little before conceding, with the promise that he would see Remus on Boxing Day, after he was back from Christmas with James’s parents.

 

“I’ll call you on Christmas day, though.”

 

“Oh you don’t have to! Have fun with James and his family!”

 

“I want to, Moony. I’ll miss you.”

 

“Oh. Well, alright then.”

 

On the twenty-fourth, the library closed early. When Remus had walked Mary and Marlene to their bus stop, he wished them a happy Christmas. Marlene pulled him into a hug. As they watched him shuffle towards the train station, Mary nudged Marlene. “I think you should do it.”

 

“Yeah.” Marlene had tears in her eyes. She pulled out her phone and called Dorcas.

 

When Remus got home, three people stood waiting at his door.

 

***

 

The figure appeared folded in upon itself, like a dead spider with its curling legs, or a ruin that hadn’t quite got round to collapsing. It shuffled slowly toward the stoop upon which three young men stood huddle against the cold. Its head was down, tawny hair glinting gold as it passed under a streetlight. It looked up, and the face-- pale and blank as a fresh canvas-- allowed an expression of mild puzzlement as amber eyes fell upon their forms.

 

“Remus!” Called James, cheerily. He had a large sack slung over one shoulder.

 

Peter gave Remus a once-over as he neared. “Blimey, Moony, Marlene wasn’t lying! You’re positively gray!”

 

Sirius winced through his wax-figure smile.

 

Remus had reached them now, and was eying them warily as he pulled off his gloves.“Marlene?”

 

Sirius nodded. “Yeah, she called Dorcas, asking for me-- oh, don’t be angry with her, she was worried! Said she could feel your ribs sticking out even through your ninety layers of wool.” 

 

Remus ran his hands down the front of his coat, as though he could smooth out his jutting ribs like clay. He dug in his pocket for his keys, then brushed past them to get to his door. “I thought you guys were at James’s for Christmas.”

 

Sirius shrugged, smile still overbright. “Yeah, but we decided to do the Independent Thing this year after all.”

 

Remus unlocked the door, but he did not open it. Instead, he turned to face them, leaning on the door jam. He eyed Sirius.“Just last night you were waxing poetic about Mrs. Potter’s yorkshire pudding.” 

 

“Who needs yorkshire pudding when you’re young, eh? Besides, the folks deserve a break from this lot.” James jerked his head at Sirius and Peter.

 

Sirius crossed his arms. “Oi, I’ll have you know I am her favourite.”   
  


“Hey, just ‘cause she  _ chose _ you doesn’t mean she loves me any less.”

 

“Sure, that’s what she’ll tell you. To your face.”

 

Peter put a hand on each of their shoulders “Boys, boys, I’m sure she loves you both equally. Me, on the other hand--”

 

Remus sighed, killing their conversation, and they faced front like schoolboys; Peter practically snapped off a salute. Remus allowed them a small, tired smile. “Look, I appreciate the gesture, but I’m fine, honestly. I was looking forward to a quiet night in. Go on home, enjoy your Christmas they way you’d planned to.”

 

Peter glanced at James, who glanced at Sirius. Sirius continued to stare at Remus, expression tight as he looked upon what he could only think of as a shell of his Remus-- the Remus he knew. He stepped forward. “Listen. Pete bought a rotisserie chicken, and it’s still warm, and it won’t be for much longer if we keep standing out here. Do us a favour and open the door, or at least budge so I can do it myself.” Sirius reached for the knob, but Remus grabbed his hand before it touched metal.

 

Sirius watched as something flickered behind those warm irises, quickly brought to heel and schooled into a prescribed expression of mild worry. “Please,” Remus whispered, so that only Sirius could hear him. “Just. Don’t judge me too harshly?”

 

Sirius frowned. “Over what?”

 

Remus only shook his head, and opened the door.

 

They followed him over the threshold.

 

“DOG.” James bellowed as Kit ran to greet them. James dropped into a crouch, and rummaged in his sack for a moment before producing a pair of bright red doggy antlers. Carefully he placed them over Kit’s head, and he and Peter delighted themselves with taking photos of the bemused bulldog as Sirius followed Remus into the living room.

 

Remus stopped in the middle of the room, then turned to face Sirius, his expression a challenge.

 

Sirius’s eyes swept the space, taking in the olive green love seat and the battered coffee table, the ancient TV, the framed prints and posters on the walls. His eyes landed on the overturned pill bottles and abandoned mugs of tea which littered every flat surface, and the books stacked upon piles of dirty clothes.

 

“The kitchen is worse,” Remus said quietly, gesturing.

 

Silently, Sirius stepped through, and found that Remus was right. The table was layered with pages of notes, pens, pencils, highlighters, and--impossibly--more books. At some point, a mug of tea had overturned and saturated a notebook, and a tea towel had been thrown over the mess-- whether to hide it or to soak up the damage, Sirius could not tell. On the counter, a bunch of bananas had blackened past edibility, and half-chewed crusts of toast lay abandoned in piles by the sink.

 

Remus gazed over the mess, expression twisted as though he were taking it in properly for the first time.

 

“Remus--”

 

“I know.”

 

“What happened?”

 

Remus shook his head, letting his eyes fall shut. He looked so small, even layered as he was in sweaters and coats. Sirius moved closer to him, looking up at the face which had grown so impossibly gaunt in the days since last he had seen it. He had suspected before that Remus’s diet was lacking, but there was no doubt now in his mind that Remus had been living off toast and tea for the past two weeks. Possibly less, in recent days.

 

_ I promised. _ His gut dropped, and he reached blindly for his friend. “I’m so sorry.”

 

Remus opened his eyes. He stared down as though puzzled as Sirius grasped his hands. “What for?”

 

“I let you down. You were alone, in all of this-- and I was going on about my own problems. I  _ kissed  _ you, I thought it was ok--”

 

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

 

“Remus--”

 

“What, I’m so broken that I can’t be touched?” And just past the sardonic challenge was a question, a fear spun into words and left hanging in the air.

 

“No. That is not what I am saying.” Sirius forced himself to speak slowly, quietly. “I just shouldn’t have been thinking about what I wanted, when you were struggling with this.” 

 

“I wanted it too.” Remus murmured, and his voice was string where once it had been stone.

 

They watched each other.

 

“Can I ask you for something? Just one thing, and then we move past this.” Sirius moved his hands to Remus’s shoulders.

 

Remus nodded.

 

“Tell me, next time. Just tell me.”

 

And in that request was the understanding that Sirius had seen all of this, seen the dark part of Remus’s soul, and was prepared to visit it again, armed.

 

Remus pulled his gaze away from the silver eyes which blazed, waiting. One frozen hand found a loose thread, toyed with it, then dropped back to his side. Then he looked up, and, in the bravest whisper he could muster, said:

 

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok yep that was harsh. And really hard to write. BUT there Good Times and a great deal of fluff are ahead (plus a good bit more angst, though not the lonely kind). 
> 
> As usual I'd love to hear from you in the comments, or over on Tumblr @vague_enthusiast (where I've also been posting fan art)!


	10. A Very Marauders Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, fluff, and more fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK, BINCHES

Sirius and Remus emerged from the kitchen into what had once been the living room, and now more closely resembled a surrealist’s take on Santa’s wet dream. The cups and books and clothes which had littered the various surfaces had disappeared, replaced with cheesy figurines of reindeer in all manner of slightly lewd poses. A random assortment of snow globes were perched upon the television, a massive flowery wreath had taken up residence on the mantle, and somehow, the room smelled of orange peels and cinnamon. The dulcet tones of Michael Buble’s “Santa Baby” filled the air. 

 

A whipped-looking Peter waved at them from his precarious position on the arm of the couch, nearly dropping the red and gold garland he was attempting to drape over the window frame. James was whirring about like a hummingbird on acid, assembling an artificial Christmas tree which looked far too large to have fit in his sack. He secured the final segment of the tree, then stood back to survey his handiwork like an expert sculptor. 

 

When he turned around to assess the rest of room, James spotted them standing in the kitchen doorway and grinned. “All figured out? Yes? Excellent! We’re nearly done here. We can decorate the tree after a few drinks. It’ll be funnier that way.”

 

“Oh! That reminds me, I brought this--” Peter had descended from the arm of the couch and was waving a cardboard box around. “I thought we could make a drinking game out of it.” 

 

“Brilliant move, Wormy!” Sirius grinned at Peter, who beamed. 

 

James nodded, businesslike. “But first, dinner!”

 

Remus stood quietly beside Sirius, taking it all in with a tight throat and burning eyes. These boys hardly knew him, and yet they had abandoned their own Christmas plans to bring a bit of cheer to his. He was quite overwhelmed with gratitude, and just a hint of guilt. Sirius seemed to sense this, because he grabbed Remus’s hand and gave it a squeeze. 

 

James rubbed his palms together eagerly.  “Right, men. Let’s get to it.  Peter, you grab some plates. Remus do you have wine glasses? No? No problem, we’ll do mugs. Pads, you can wash four mugs for us, can’t you? No, Remus, it’s fine, Sirius needs to learn what manual labour feels like at some point. I’ll go get the silverware, and why don’t you set out some cushions for us to sit on?”

 

Everybody did what they were told, and within minutes they were all sitting down to a respectable grocery store feast. Remus helped himself to some chicken breast, potato salad, hummus and pita bread, and sliced pineapple. Sirius, who stuck loosely to the halal diet of his childhood, steered clear of the meat and piled his plate high with breads and dips and salads. Peter had a bit of everything, and James managed to snag both drumsticks for himself. They all, of course, had wine-- a cheap Chardonnay which James insisted would “pair nicely with the white meat.”

 

Peter rolled his eyes at this and whispered conspiratorially, “Don’t worry, Remus, we’ve also got cider and a good deal of spiced rum.”

 

Remus was not worried. For the first time in nearly two weeks, he felt himself laughing and smiling easily, without the constant nagging worry of school pressing at his mind, and without the fears which kept cropping up whenever Sirius came to mind. Those fears were not gone, and he was still having trouble understanding them, but he was starting to realize that if anybody would be willing to work through them with him, it would be the laughing boy holding his hand under the table.

 

When dinner was done and the table had been cleared, Peter solemnly placed his cardboard box in the center of the coffee table. “Right. So, who has actually done this before?”

 

“Ooooh!! Me! Me!” James waved his hand about like a child in a classroom.

 

Peter inclined his head at James. “Ok. You can act as creative director.”

 

James nodded gravely.

 

“The rest of us will be your hands, executing your every whim in sweet sweet cookie and icing.”

 

“And gumdrops, candy ball-bearings, bubble gum, and licorice.”  Sirius was reading off the back of the box with the utmost sobriety.

 

Remus piped up. “You said something about a drinking game?”

 

Peter eyed him, amused. “Eager, are we?”

 

Remus shrugged, stifling a grin. He hadn’t really ever been drunk before, but the buzz he was feeling off the wine made him want to try. Sirius squeezed his hand again, and he glanced over to see a little grin on the other man’s face.

 

“What?” Remus murmured to him as James and Peter argued over the particulars of the drinking game.

 

Sirius’s eyes crinkled even further, but he just shrugged. “Nothin’.”

 

Remus furrowed his brow at him, but Sirius only smiled wider and moved his arm behind Remus’s shoulders. They were leaning back against the base of the loveseat, and Sirius’s new position allowed him to brace his elbow upon the cushions and run his fingers slowly through Remus’s hair. Remus practically purred.

 

“Alright, I think we’ve settled on some rules.” James beamed at them as Peter explained, and though Remus did his utmost to listen, the tingles Sirius’s fingers were sending down his neck and shoulders kept dragging his attention away. He found himself leaning into Sirius’s side, and the other man did not seem to mind.

 

The following hour was one of the happiest in Remus’s life. James directed them, giggling, through the construction of a giant phallic gingerbread structure. (“This isn’t what’s on the box, James!” “Artistic liberty, Pete. Trust the vision.”) Every time one of them snuck a piece of candy or collapsed a gingerbread wall, everybody drank. And the more they drank, the more frequently the walls collapsed. Eventually, they decided to break this catch-22 by eating the entire mess and finishing off the bottle of rum.

 

“Tree time!” James declared at half eleven. He pulled a pair of tin boxes from his bottomless sack and stood swaying as he struggled with their lids.

 

“Gimme,” Sirius said, waving his hands lazily from his position on the floor with Remus. Remus, who had his ear firmly pressed to Sirius’s shoulder, enjoyed the flexing of biceps which occurred as Sirius attempted to prise the lid from one of the tins.

 

Peter muttered something which nobody could hear, then giggled quietly to himself.

 

After nearly ten minutes of prying from James and Sirius, Remus reached out sleepily, snagged one of the boxes, and popped the lid on his first try. A great deal of hooting ensued, as the others marvelled at the glory which was Remus’s brute strength. Soon the four of them were plastering the tree with yet more dangling reindeer figures.

 

“Got a thing for elk, James?”

 

He shrugged. “They’re my spirit animal.”

 

Remus’s eyes widened, and he brought his spread hands up just above his ears, thumbs pressed to his head and fingers spread. “Prongs,” he whispered. He turned to Sirius. “ _ Prongs. _ ”

 

Sirius beamed and pressed a kiss into his hair, standing on his tiptoes to do so. “Yes, darling.”

 

“He’s cracked it!” Peter declared, before subsiding into snuffling giggles yet again.

 

Sirius hung the final decoration, and they all stood and marvelled at their handiwork. James had arranged his ornaments very carefully into the shape of a penis, but otherwise, Remus thought that their little tree was rather beautiful.

 

“Oh! Here,” said James, obliterating their moment of silent observation. He bowed as he held something black and very fluffy out to Remus. “Host does the honours.”

 

Remus took the thing, which appeared to be a black stuffed dog, and, at James’s motioning, placed it atop the tree. He stared at it for a second, before shouting, “Dog star!” Sirius grinned proudly at the tree, seemed to realize after a moment that it wasn’t Remus, then swung his gaze over to the true object of his pride, which blushed.

 

“I do proclaim this a successful Marauders’ Christmas!” James put an arm around Remus, and pulled Sirius and Peter in so that they were caught in a sort of tangled-up football huddle. 

 

Remus giggled. “Marauders?”

 

“S what we called ourselves back at private school.” Sirius mumbled, as the others nodded gravely.

 

Remus couldn’t help but snort. “You must have been such nerds.”

 

“Oy! You’re one of us now, let’s not break fealty so soon!”

 

“I’m-- I’m one of you?” Remus hiccupped.

 

“‘Course, Remus! We wouldn’t do this for just anybody!” Peter gestured around the space, which was littered in tinsel and abandoned cups of cider.

 

“Well.” Remus stood for a moment, considering how utterly lucky he was to be included in such a group of kind and upstanding young men. He placed a hand over his heart. “I am honoured.”

 

They all stared at each other, beaming.

 

Then James shouted, “STOCKNGS,” and lurched off with Peter in tow.

 

Remus stared dazedly after them for a moment, before turning his attention to the very attractive man standing very close beside him. “You smell good,” Remus said, before realizing what he had said and snapping his mouth shut.

 

Sirius smirked, then grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the loveseat. They fell more than sat on it, and Remus landed half on top of Sirius. He apologized and made to move, but Sirius gently tugged him so that he was more firmly seated upon his lap. Remus blushed, though he was sure his face was a permanent shade of vermillion at this point.

 

Sirius smirked. “You,” he said, “Are hammered.”

 

“So are you,” Remus pointed out, poking a finger at Sirius’s chest. 

 

Sirius shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m used to it, and not nearly as adorable as you are when you’re drunk.”

 

“Beg to differ,” muttered Remus, ducking his head as Sirius smirked again.

 

A loud cough resounded from above them. They peered upward, and Remus flinched as something green swung very close to his face.

 

“Shove off, James,” Sirius said, and his voice was not entirely friendly.

 

At last, Remus managed to focus his eyes long enough on the green thing to detect its shape. “Mistletoe,” he said, dumbly.

 

“We don’t have to, Remus, James is just being a di-- mmph!” He broke off with a muffled cry of surprise.

 

Remus had grabbed both sides of Sirius’s face, and planted a kiss firmly on his mouth. He seemed to have done a good job, he thought, since Sirius immediately went slack, opening his mouth just enough to let Remus in. Experimentally, Remus ran his tongue along Sirius’s bottom lip, and the other man let out a soft, low groan.

 

“We’ll just… go now…” James said, backing into the kitchen with a sniggering Peter. He tucked the sprig of mistletoe into Sirius’s hair as he went.

 

Neither Sirius nor Remus noticed. They were locked together now, Remus’s arm round Sirius’s neck, one hand still pressed to his chest, both of Sirius’s arms wound round Remus’s waist. The broke apart only for air, staring at each other as their gasps mingle with Buble’s crooning. Remus noticed in his semi-lucid state that Sirius’s eyes had gone nearly black. Then, with a jolt, he realized that something hard was pressing into his thigh. He looked down, stupidly, and Sirius’s mouth collided with his head.

 

Without thinking, Remus stood. Sirius let him go easily, a bemused expression on his face, touching his bleeding lip.

 

“Need the loo,” Remus breathed.

 

Safely in the solitude of the washroom, Remus leaned against the wall. The buoyant warmth which had invaded his limbs was disappearing, a familiar achy cold chasing it back through his veins.

 

He sank to the floor.

 

_ In and out, in and out. _ The mantra played through his head in Lily’s voice, although he wasn’t sure he needed it. This wasn’t panic or anxiety, this was dread. Sooner or later, he’d have to go back out there and explain to Sirius that yes, his arousal had frightened Remus off, and that no, he did not know why. 

 

A quiet knock sounded at the door. “Remus?” It was Sirius, his voice soft with concern.

 

Remus sighed.  _ Fuck it.  _ “Come in.”

 

Sirius slipped into the room, closing the door at his back. “You alright?”

 

Remus nodded. “Yeah, sorry. I just--”

 

“It was a lot, all at once.” Sirius dropped into a squat at Remus’s feet.

 

“Yeah. It was good, though. The kissing.” Remus said, because it had been, and he wanted Sirius to know that.

 

Sirius grinned, a tiny bit of relief peaking through the expression. “I thought so too.”

 

Remus smiled back at him, wondering how to explain why they now found themselves on the floor of the loo, instead of sideways on the couch or perhaps in his bed.

 

“Hey, Remus?”

 

“Mmm?”

 

“We can take it as slow as you need. And, there is no end game for me. Other than you, in general.”

 

“Oh,” Remus said, because there were a lot of emotions flooding through him all at once, and he didn’t think he could express them properly even given an hour and infinite ink.

 

“Is that alright?”

 

“You-- you don’t want--?”

 

Sirius tilted his head. “Well,” he said, and Remus could see him calculating his next few words with care. “I like sex, Remus--”

 

Remus bowed his head. Sirius put one long forefinger under his chin, and tilted it gently upward, so that Remus was looking at him once more. Then he finished his thought.

 

“But I like you more.”

 

“Oh.” The heat began to return to Remus’s limbs, along with something else, something quick and bright which sung through his veins.

 

Sirius watched him for a moment. “Do you want to talk about this later? When we’re both a little less--”

 

“Smashed?”

 

“Yeah.” Sirius smiled. “You want up?”

 

Remus reached out, snagged Sirius’s hand, and was pulled to his feet. “Sorry again,” he said.

 

Sirius shrugged. “If I’m honest, I was a little overwhelmed myself. Even if we  _ were _ both ready, it’s not exactly the best time, is it?”

 

“No,” Remus said, giggling. “James, and Peter must’ve been so uncomfortable, they just fucked right out of there--” then he spotted the spring of mistletoe sticking out of Sirius’s bun, and lost it. 

 

Sirius, confused, felt around on the top of his head, then pulled the glossy plant from his hair. He stared at it for a minute, then burst out laughing. “He must’ve--” he wheezed, miming James’s careful placement of the mistletoe. “And then they--” he demonstrated James’ and Peter’s departure as a sort of fuck-this-shit-I’m-out moonwalk.

 

All that came out of Remus in response was air.

 

They emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later and ducked into the the kitchen, faces still red with laughter, to let James and Peter know that they were going to bed, and that the remaining two Marauders could fight for the couch. James heckled them all the way down the hallway to Remus’s room, but Remus could not care less.

 

He was in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry that it's been ages since I last updated, I got stuck with this chapter and then got distracted by fan art and rp (*cough* check out @vagueenthusiast on Tumblr if you want to see what I've been doing *cough*).
> 
> But anyway, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you thought, I always love hearing from you guys!


	11. James Saves the Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is less than merry for the Marauders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Medical complications, hospital visit, allusions to suicide.

The first thing Sirius noticed when he woke up on Christmas Day was the beautiful boy pressed against him, tawny curls ruffling gently with Sirius’s every breath. The second thing Sirius noticed was the terrible, horrible sound that was filling the room.

 

“Moony,” Sirius whispered. Remus did not move. Sirius made to sit up, and Remus rolled heavily off of him, head lolling.“ _ Remus, _ ” Sirius said again, more urgently this time. “Hey, Remus, wake up.” But the ragged rasping noise that was emanating from the sleeping boy did not ease, and the sunken eyes did not open.

 

Sirius stared down at him for a moment, propped up on his elbow, heart thudding. Then he leapt to his feet. Wrenching the door open, he screamed down the hallway for James. Not waiting for a reply, he dropped to his knees beside the bed and took Remus’s bony shoulders. “Remus you need to wake up. Remus, your breathing-- it’s all messed up, and you need to tell me what to do. Why aren’t you waking up, you have to wake up, I can’t do this again, ok, I can’t--”

 

“ _ Sirius _ .” A strong hand gripped his arm. “You need to stop shaking him, Sirius, he’s awake. Pads,  _ he’s awake _ .”

 

Sirius snapped his mouth shut, letting go of Remus and reeling backward. Tears that he hadn’t noticed forming rolled down his face, and he scrubbed angrily at them. Sure enough, Remus was squinting blearily up at them. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a wheeze. He blinked; then, very slowly, he curled in on himself, clutching his chest. He was biting his bottom lip now, so hard that a thin trickle of blood was making its way to his pillow.

 

James sat gently on the edge of Remus’s bed, putting a hand to the boy’s bony back. “What is it? Your chest?”

 

Remus nodded, a tear hanging loosely from his bottom lashes.

 

“And it’s bad? Does it extend to your shoulder?”

 

Remus winced and nodded again. James clicked his tongue, stood, and gestured Sirius into the hallway. He moved slowly and deliberately, and closed the door with a soft  _ click _ behind him. 

 

Peter was hovering in the hallway, eyes wide and hair ruffled. “Um. Anything I can do?”

 

James ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, actually. Go in there and keep Remus company, make sure he’s breathing, and if he passes out or his lips start to turn blue, yell for me.”

 

Peter’s eyes opened even wider. “What?” He whispered.

 

“Just do it, Pete.” Then James turned to Sirius and gestured him to the living room.

 

Unable to hold back any longer, Sirius grabbed James by the arm. “What do we do? What does the shoulder pain mean? Will he be alright? How come you’re so calm?”

 

“Pads, slow down. I’m not sure what the shoulder pain means, but combined with chest pain, it could be coronary.”

 

“Coronary?” Sirius rasped. “You mean-- his  _ heart? _ ”

 

“Like I said, I’m not sure. But I do think we should take him to the hospital.”

 

“Should we call an ambulance?” Sirius hated to suggest it, aware that Remus would absolutely loath the idea. Knowing him, he was probably already freaking out over the fact that he was ruining their morning with his inconvenient heart attack.

 

“It’d be faster just to drive him there, it’s only ten minutes.”

 

Sirius dug both hands into his hair. “Are you sure? What if he-- what if something happens on the way?”

 

James’ jaw clenched, and for the first time that morning, Sirius remembered that his friend had about as much experience as he did with this sort of thing. He clasped James’s shoulder. “Do you know what, you’re right. It’s only ten minutes, and if he’s been like this all night, he’ll last until we get him to the hospital.” *

 

It was closer to fifteen minutes, all told, before Remus was bundled into the emergency room, wrapped in a blanket and carried bodily by Peter, who--underneath the girth of too many cheese croissants--was actually startlingly ripped.

 

After James had what Sirius viewed as the world’s longest and most circular conversation with the triage nurse, Remus was wheeled past a pair of swinging doors and into the bowels of the hospital, where Sirius was not allowed to follow. He sank into a chair at James’ insistence that pressing his face to the little square pane in the swinging door would achieve nothing, and sat hunched with his head in his hands until a doctor came out to update them.

 

“That’s good news, mate!” James said, once the doctor had retreated. “Not a heart attack, and easily remedied!”

 

But the fear had drained from Sirius’ body now, and had left far too much space for anger. He stared incredulously at James, then strode from the waiting room. He could feel their eyes on his back, feel the blood rushing to his head, and without more of a thought than  _ away _ , he directed himself toward the little strip of trees that lined the wide parking lot. He found himself stood in front of a tall oak, staring stupidly at it as the doctor’s words rang through his head.

 

_ Pleurisy… partially collapsed lung… easily fixed with minor surgery… he’ll be on an ibuprofen drip for a day or two… but yes, he will be fine… provided he gets back on his medications. _

 

_ Back on his medications. _

 

Back  _ on his medications. _

 

**Back** \--

 

“Thought you might be cold.”

 

Sirius stopped punching the tree. He stared at the bloodied, broken bark, then let out the breath he had been holding since the doctor had said those words in that moronic, ignorant,  _ uselessly _ optimistic voice.

 

“You do realize that the tree has very little to do with Remus’s lung, right?”

 

Sirius let out a huffing, humourless laugh. “Fuck off, James.”

 

“It’s just, why do you always choose the oak trees? Why not a nice pine, or a fir?”

 

Sirius spun toward James. “I said  _ fuck. Off. _ ” He could feel how insane he must look; shirt unbuttoned, wearing Remus’s pyjama bottoms rolled up at the ankles, hair flying round his shoulders and  blood dripping from his knuckles. 

 

James raised an eyebrow, and lifted his arms in a gesture of surrender. “Look, mate, I just thought you might want your coat. It’s like negative ten degrees out here.”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“‘Course you are. It’s just good exercise, punching a tree in the freezing cold. Very sensible.”

 

Sirius followed James’ gaze back to the pulverized trunk, then fell into a squat as the blind anger vanished, leaving him with a simmering sort of rage.

 

“Are you going to tell me why you’re so mad?”

 

Sirius gave a weak chuckle. “I’ve always been mad, Potter. It’s in my blood.”

 

There was a crunching of gravel as James sat down beside him. Together they stared out at the damp cement of the parking lot, at the bright red glowing sign against the bruised gray sky, at the dozens and dozens of cars lined up like rows of pills waiting to be swallowed.

 

Sirius broke the silence. “I guess illness doesn’t care that it’s Christmas.”

 

James said nothing.

 

“I mean, look at all these cars. You’d think that on Christmas day, every parking lot would be empty. But this isn’t a bookshop or a bank, illness doesn’t shut down for the holidays, and there are just as many bloody cars here as there were the day Reg--”

 

He stopped. James waited.

 

“The day Reg died.” Sirius finished. He stared out at the sea of metal and glass for another moment, then sighed and eased himself down so that he was sitting cross legged. He could feel every cold pebble digging into his arse through the thin material of Remus’s pyjama bottoms. He shivered. “I think I’ll take that coat now.”

 

Wordlessly, James tossed it over.

 

Sirius slipped it on, wincing as the course material caught on the broken skin of his knuckles. As if triggered by the pain, another flash of anger took him. “The doctor said that Remus will be fine, and that’s great. I’m glad that this pleurisy thing is so simple to treat, that the surgery for his pneumo-whatsit is easy as pie, that it’s all so fucking dandy.” He took a shaking breath. “But what the  _ hell  _ is the point, James, what the  _ hell  _ is the point if he won’t fucking take care of himself?”

 

James remained silent, but Sirius was beyond hearing. He had entered a plane that he had only visited once before, just over one year ago. There was rage there, and sorrow, and a helplessness that Sirius could not stand.

 

“Why doesn’t he care enough about himself to take a few pills? Just a few pills, every day?” His voice came out thick, like he was speaking through a layer of cloth.

 

James’ hand found his shoulder. “I don’t know mate. Maybe you should ask him, when he wakes up from his surgery?”

 

Sirius shook his head. “I don’t want to talk to him,” he muttered. He hadn’t been enough for Reg, and if he couldn’t keep his own brother afloat, how was he to save someone who didn’t share his childhood, his lineage, his blood? “I can’t… I can’t go through this again, James.”

 

James thought for a moment. Then he spoke. “Sirius, I don’t think he’s-- he’s not like Reg. He hasn’t given up, he’s just going through something. I think that maybe what he needs is your support.” He said it mildly, without reproach, but it hit Sirius like a blow all the same. 

 

Sirius moaned, deflating, guilt eating at the edges of what James’ words had made him realize was selfish reasoning. He looked over at his friend. “I’m just so tired of the people I love caring less about themselves than I do.” 

 

James grinned. “ _ Love _ , eh?”

 

“Oh, shove off.” Sirius stood. “Speaking of, you should probably call Lily.”

 

James reddened, and Sirius smirked. 

 

“Already have,” James muttered. “She wanted to come back today, but her train back is tomorrow anyway and it would’ve been a waste of money to buy a whole new ticket just to get here a few hours earlier. I told her we’d take care of Remus.”

 

The guilt gave a painful throb in Sirius’s chest. “We will,” he said, to the guilt as much as to James. “We will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOOOO LOOK AT THAT ANOTHER CHAPTER DONE AND WAS IT A BIGGUN OR WHAT
> 
> How did you like this one? I'd love to hear from you here or over on Tumblr, where I'm @vagueenthusiast!
> 
> *(I do not recommend that you wait to call an ambulance with shoulder and chest pain; however, these are just college age kids and they don’t know any better)


	12. Wet Willies Willy Nilly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus was beginning to wonder if he had ever woken up from his surgery, or if this was some sort of strange, anesthesia-induced dream.

Remus could not pinpoint the precise moment he broke from sleep; when he opened his eyes on Christmas Day he was aware only of the fact that where once had been warmth and contentment was now a great deal of pain.

 

There was also a significant amount of shouting, some of which was accompanied by the frantic shaking of his shoulders. His vision was blurry, but even in his barely-lucid state, he knew that these were Sirius’s hands gripping him, that this was Sirius’s voice assaulting his ears-- nobody else had eyes bright enough to pierce through the hazy veil of oxygen starvation.

 

He was only vaguely aware of being sat up, wrapped in a blanket, and hoisted into a running car by someone large and very warm. He wondered in a vague sort of way whose car it was; being reliant on public transit himself, he had assumed that the Marauders had taken the train to his flat on Christmas Eve. But then, he supposed, as pinpricks of light began to dance across his blurry vision, the car must have been their reason for staying the night. His oxygen-starved brain commended them for choosing his flat over drink-driving, even as his heart sank-- somewhere very deep inside him, he had let himself think that they had stayed just to be with him.

 

Somebody was murmuring in his ear. When he focused very hard, he could make out the words: “Stay with me, love. Stay with me, stay with me. Stay with me, love. It’s alright.” There was also the gentle pressure of a calloused thumb, rubbing circles on the clammy skin of his cheek.

 

At some point, the car stopped its jostling, and he was hoisted back into the big warm arms. The sudden upward motion triggered a sharp, ripping sort of sensation deep in his chest. He didn’t remember much after that.

 

***   
  
“Can he hear us?”  _ Peter. _

 

“I cannot say.” 

 

“Will he be in a lot of pain?”  _ James. _

 

“It is possible. As with many things in life, draining the fluid from such inflamed lungs can make things worse before they are better.”

 

“ _ Worse? _ ” This voice was hoarse, the question a raspe of incredulity.  _ Sirius. _

 

“Yes. But don’t worry, he is on the very strongest of medications, so he will not feel much pain.”  _ Bullshit. _

 

“Oh.”

 

“If you have any more questions, I shall be checking in on him in three hours. In the meantime, do stay quiet, and try your best not to disturb him. When he wakes up, be kind and comforting, and ring a nurse if he complains of chest pain. And  _ you-- _ ” a pause, as though a pointed look was being given, “should  _ wait  _ to vent any frustrations you have with him.”

 

“I--”

 

“We often allow ourselves to become somewhat too passionate over the ones we love, Mr. Black. But I think that the stitches in your knuckles should serve as reminder enough that passion can be dangerous if we do not learn to control it.”

 

_ Stitches? _

 

“How did you--”

 

“You are not the first loved one I have met who has dealt with their fear and frustration through a show of violence. I am just glad that you chose a tree today, instead of my Pinto.”

 

There was a snort from James.

 

“Good day to you all. Oh, and--” the sound glass being pushed across wood-- “Do help yourself to these sherbet lemons. They are delightful.”

 

There was the click of a closing door, then James whispered, “Dude just admitted to owning a Pinto.”

 

Remus opened his eyes. The room seemed to be moving, but it was not spinning, like was the favourite descriptor of dizziness in books; no, it was jerking itself about in a disjointed pattern that kept Remus from resting his eyes on anything for more than a few tenths of a second. He quickly felt bile rise up to his throat.

 

“Here, mate.”   
  
Something was pushed under his chin. He glanced down-- blue plastic, curved; a bedpan. He vomited.

 

James wiped his chin with the cloth that Peter handed him, and Remus lay back on his pillow, wincing. He looked round at the others-- James, with his elbows on Remus’s bed and a sympathetic look on his face; Peter, bobbing nervously behind James and looking thoroughly out of place; and Sirius, who was leaning against the window frame, staring out at the cold gray sky, about as far away from Remus as the tiny room would allow.

 

Remus coughed, groaned, and said quite hoarsely, “Happy Christmas.”

 

James snorted again. “How’re you feeling?”

 

“Alright,” Remus said carefully. The truth was, his ribcage felt as though somebody had drilled a hole into it, and his lungs were being consumed by a dull sort of fire that seemed to radiate from somewhere at the base of his throat.

 

Sirius snorted. 

 

“Er,” Remus glanced at James, who gave him an apologetic grimace. Remus looked down at his hands. “I’m… I’m sorry for ruining your Christmases.”

 

There was a pause. “Don’t worry about it, mate.” It was Peter. “We had enough fun at yours last night to last us through today.”

 

“Oh.” Remus was surprised to find grateful tears stinging at the backs of his eyes. “Me-- me too.”

 

Silence fell once more. Even James seemed unwilling to fill it, as something thick and dark and unhappy radiated from Sirius like heat, filling the room.

 

After a moment, Remus spoke again. “Listen, you don’t have to stay--”

 

“Why, Remus?” Sirius’s voice was unusually thin.

 

Remus took a breath, coughed, then said, weakley, “Why?”  _ Why what? _

 

Sirius was still avoiding Remus’s gaze, eyes glued on something far beyond the cars in the parking lot. “Why did you let it get this bad? The doctor told us that you haven’t been taking your pills.” 

 

James glanced over at him, then looked at Peter and muttered, “Kick him, will you?”

 

“ _ Me? _ ” Peter squeaked, barely audible.

 

James shrugged. “You’re closer.”

 

Peter looked terrified at the thought of touching Sirius in this state, so James sighed, grabbed a water bottle from Remus’s bedside table, and flung it full-force at Sirius. It connected with a thunk, sending Sirius rocking backward with the impact. 

 

He turned to glare at James, rubbing at his freshly bruised chest. “The fuck is your problem, Potter?”

 

James squared his shoulders. “ _ My  _ problem? What is  _ yours _ ? Your boyfriend-- yes, he’s your fucking boyfriend, Padfoot, grow up. Your boyfriend just woke up from  _ surgery _ on  _ Christmas Day _ and your first thought is to interrogate him? Did we not  _ just  _ talk about this? Try a fucking hug, or an  _ ‘I’m glad you’re ok’ _ , you heartless assho--”

 

“James.” Remus spoke quietly, but James stopped speaking at once. All eyes turned to Remus, but his were trained only on Sirius, who had finally turned from the window to face him. The man’s face was blank, but in his gaze was all the hurt Remus realized he had inflicted. And, with a flash of understanding, Remus knew what this was about.

 

He steadied himself, and then he spoke. “Things got bad, Sirius. I know you have some idea of it, you saw the state of my flat. But-- but when things are that bad, it’s like it hurts to look at anything. It hurts to touch anything, it hurts to breathe; nothing is safe, nothing is right. Even the things which are meant to keep you alive, things like food and water and medication-- it’s like they’re on fire. A fire too bright to look at, and too hot to touch. So you just sort of shut down. You do what you’re programmed to do, and you do the bare minimum of it. For me, that was school and work. Everything else just fell away.” 

 

Sirius’s mouth was open, and he was half-standing, but Remus pressed forward-- he had to get this out, he had to make Sirius understand. “There was no intent behind it, Sirius. I did not… I did not  _ want  _ to die. I just-- I couldn’t bear to do the things that would keep me alive. There’s a difference, I swear it to you. And I’m better now. I promise you that-- I’m better now.”

 

Sirius was at his bedside now, and there were tears in his eyes. He clutched at Remus’s hands. At some point, James and Peter had left, and Sirius fell into James’s empty chair. It seemed that he was unable to speak, so Remus just held tight to his hands as Sirius shook, silently, head bowed so that his forehead was touching Remus’s chest.

 

“I’m not going to leave you, Sirius,” Remus breathed, freeing one hand in order to bury it in Sirius’s hair. “I’ll never do that.”  _ I will never do what Regulus did. _

 

Remus held Sirius for a long time after that.

 

***

 

When James and Peter returned nearly an hour and a half later, it was with a large burlap sack.

 

“You are carrying a large burlap sack,” said Remus.

 

“Yes,” said Peter.

 

“We are,” said James. 

 

“Why are you carrying a large burlap sack?” asked Remus.

 

“It is Christmas,” said James. Peter nodded. They looked smugly at him as though this explained everything.

 

Remus glanced over at Sirius, who had thus far remained uncharacteristically silent. He grinned back at Remus, the red rimming his eyes the only hint at his earlier breakdown.

 

“Right.” Remus was beginning to wonder if he had ever woken up from his surgery, or if this was some sort of strange, anesthesia-induced dream.

 

Then, soberly, one-by-one, James pulled four enormous, overflowing stockings from the large burlap sack. “One for you--” he handed one knitted with a large black dog to Sirius; “One for you--” one with a rat for Peter; “One for me--” he set aside a stag-adorned stocking; “And one,” he said, placing a bright red stocking carefully onto Remus’s lap, “For you.” Remus reached out, awestruck, and picked it up. Into the side was knit a wolf, howling into a golden Christmas-bauble moon.

 

“What--” he started to ask, then stopped, because he had no idea what his question was.

 

“My mother,” said James, reaching into his stocking and fishing out a Ferrero Rocher, “Likes to knit.” He unwrapped it noisily, and popped it into his mouth.

 

Remus glanced down at his own stocking, and found that it, too, was stuffed to the brim with sweets. “Thank you,” he murmured thickly, keeping his eyes trained on his stocking lest they overflow with tears.

 

“No problem, mate! Shall we begin?”

 

“Yesssss,” Sirius exclaimed gleefully, speaking for the first time since his friends’ return.

 

“You go last,” James directed Sirius. “For being such a prat today.”

 

All eyes turned on Sirius, waiting for his inflammatory response. But to their surprise, he merely shrugged. “Fair enough. I vote that Moony starts.”

 

Remus gulped. “Sorry-- what is Moony starting?” 

 

“Dig in! Pull out your first present!” James gestured impatiently.

 

He leaned over to Remus and clasped his shoulder. “You’ll catch on.” He leaned back again. The man seemed to have produced a third chair from nowhere, and had settled into it so comfortably that they may as well have been gathered in his living room.

 

Remus reached hesitantly into his stocking and felt around amongst the various wrapped confections. When his fingertips at last met a smooth, hard edge, he grabbed and pulled. It was a small rectangular parcel, wrapped in a horrible green paper printed with tiny yellow minions.

 

“Er,” he said, then he read the tag. “This is from Pete.” He glanced up, and found said Marauder beaming happily at him.

 

“Go on,” Peter gestured, bouncing eagerly in his chair.

 

Remus slowly peeled back the paper, and found a thick paperback book inside. “ _The Name of the Wind,_ ” he read out. “I’ve heard of this.”

 

“It’s one of my faaavourite novels,” Peter said, practically bursting with excitement. “High adventure, fantasy setting, badass characters, excellent prose-- everything you could want, honestly.”

 

Remus couldn’t help but agree. “Thanks, Wormy! I’ve been on the hunt for a good book to sink my teeth into. This will be my next read!”

 

“Glad you like it,” Peter said, and Remus grinned at him.

 

“It might even take him two days to get through,” Sirius jested. Remus stuck out his tongue.

 

“Right! My turn.” James shoved his fist into his stocking, spewing wrapped chocolates everywhere. 

 

Once he was sure everybody’s gaze was on James, Remus let the smile slide off his face. These three had done so much for him, had made his Christmas Eve a joy; hell, they had probably saved his life today-- and he hadn’t bothered to get a single one of them a Christmas present.

 

Not even Sirius.

 

Someone squeezed his hand. Remus glanced over and met Sirius’s eyes, which were flicking over him with concern.

 

“You alright?” Sirius murmured.

 

Remus felt his eyes prickle for what felt like the umpteenth time that day. “I, um. I haven’t gotten anyone a present.”

 

Sirius watched him for a moment longer, then, to Remus’s surprise, let out a barking laugh. 

 

James jerked his head up from his brand new Disney Princess Lego set, which he had been fondling lovingly. “Do you have a problem with Ariel?” He narrowed his eyes. “Because if you have a problem with Ariel, you have a problem with me.” He lifted Lego Ariel’s tiny c-shaped fist in simulation of a crude gesture.

 

“We do not have a problem with Ariel, Prongs.” Sirius said, still stifling his laughter. “Remus here has just managed to let his guilt complex talk him into believing that he should have made time between his mental breakdown and his collapsed lung to buy us all Christmas presents.”

 

“Pffff,” James let a burst of air out between teeth and bottom lip. “Remus, chill out, mate. You can get us all rad birthday presents or something, if it makes you feel better.”

 

“No,” Remus shook his head determinedly. “No, I’ll get you all Christmas presents. You just might have to wait until-- whenever I see you next.”

 

“So New Years, then.” Peter said. “Provided you’re up for it.”

 

“New Years?” Remus asked, blinking in disbelief. After this catastrophe, they wanted to spend  _ another  _ holiday with him? He had never spent New Years Eve with friends before. “Y-- yeah. That’d be great.” 

 

“Excellent,” said Peter, before delving into his own stocking as James yodelled in the background.

 

“You really have to stop doing that,” Sirius murmured into Remus’s ear.

 

“What?” Remus asked, startled. 

 

“Looking surprised every time somebody treats you like a friend.” Sirius ran a thumb over Remus’s cheek. “A lot of people love you, you know.”

 

Remus could not think of a thing to say, so he settled for kissing Sirius instead. It was long and slow and soft, and it stopped only when Sirius jerked backward with a yelp.

 

He glared indignantly at James, one hand cupped over his right ear. “Did you just give me a wet willy?”

 

“Yes,” James said, with the utmost dignity. “It is your turn, Sirius.” 

 

“Good God, fine.” Sirius sat back and pulled his stocking across his lap with more haste than was altogether necessary. He glanced up at Remus, cheeks flushed, and Remus grinned.

 

“Happy Christmas, Padfoot.”

 

Sirius smiled back. “Happy Christmas, my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOOOO BOI it has been a hot minute. Sorry about that. That's what happens when you have absolutely no plan or outline for your fanfics, kids.
> 
> Anyway I hope you liked this chapter! Let me know if you did, either here or over on Tumblr where I'm @vagueenthusiast. I'm also generally doing some sort of art/rp/Q&A stuff over there as well, if that's something you're interested in.


	13. The Gift of Giving and the Guilt of Getting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus gets what he deserves...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thank-you to the lovely sirussly for beta-ing this chapter!

(4:37 pm)  _What the fuck happened in here? It looks like Santa exploded_

 

(4:38 pm) **i told you, we had a Marauders Christmas for remus**

 

(4:40 pm)  _And that includes pornographic reindeer arrangements?_

 

(4:41 pm) **it does when peter is exposed to spiced rum**

 

(4:44 pm)  _You fed Atticus right?_

 

(4:44 pm)  _Oh. Oh wow. You  F E D Atticus_

 

(4:45 pm) **he deserves to be the fattest tiny yoda the world has ever seen lils**

 

(4:45 pm) **you and remus were starving him**

 

(4:46 pm) **he told me**

 

(4:48 pm)  _And how much spiced rum had you consumed when he did so?_

 

(4:49 pm) **it was wine, evans. I’m a class act**

 

(4:49 pm) **and I was onto my second bottle**

 

(4:51 pm)  _Right. Well. Remind me to talk to you about all this when we have a moment._

 

(4:51 pm) **christ that sounds ominous. what did I break?**

 

(4:52 pm)  _Nothing, don’t worry. I’ll talk to you about it when I see you._

 

(4:53 pm) **…...right. Not worrying. What’s your eta, btw?**

 

(4:54 pm)  _I’ll be there in like 25 min, just finished grabbing Remus’s stuff._

 

(4:55 pm) **thank god. He’s been pining for his books all day. I can see it in his eyes**

 

(4:56 pm) **also his hands keep twitching in little page-turning motions. I think he’s going into withdrawal**

 

(4:56 pm) **best you hurry**

  
***

“And that’s when I found it; this entire corner of YouTube dedicated, entirely and inexplicably, to–”

 

“Lupin,”

 

Sirius stopped his anecdote mid-sentence.

 

Remus whipped his head round toward the source of of his name, and silence filled the room.

 

Sirius cleared his throat. “Well, actually, I was going to say slime. But a corner of YouTube dedicated to Lupin would be a strong competitor, depending on what was being done to him…” He trailed off.

 

Lily was standing in the doorway, arms loaded with boxes and bags, green eyes trained on Remus. They were rimmed with red, and her face bore all the signs of someone stranger to sleep. She stepped into the room.

 

Remus’s forehead creased, long fingers fidgeting with the corner of his blanket. “Lils, I’m–” He looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry.”

 

Lily took one more step forward, before she burst into tears.

 

Five minutes later, the room had cleared but for Lily and Remus. Lily was under the blankets with him, her head on his shoulder, tiny bed be damned.

 

Lily nuzzled his shoulder, sighing. “So I know that you’re like dying or whatever, but we really need to talk.”

 

Remus had prepared himself for this. “Listen, Lils, I’ve already gotten the spiel from the Marauders. ‘Feed yourself, take your meds, ask for help before you spiral into the very depths of despair’. You don’t need to give it to me again.”

 

But Lily was shaking her head. “I know, James told me that Sirius was pretty pissed at you. That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

 

Remus, who had already formed half a counter-argument in preparation for her coming lecture, faltered. “Oh. Um. What, then?”

 

“Sirius, actually. And certain… events that transpired while I was away.”

 

“Lily.” Remus gestured about the various tubes and wires currently attached to his appendages. “I’m lying in a hospital bed, and you want girl talk?”

 

“I want to know if you’re alright. With everything that’s happening, I mean. With Sirius.”

 

“Yes, Lils, I’m alright.” Remus paused. “I’m… I’m more than alright, actually.”

 

“Oh?” She grinned into his shoulder.

 

“Um. Yeah. Things are kind of really good.”

 

“Good. That’s all I needed to hear.”

 

Remus reached under the blanket and took her hand. “I love you.”

 

“You too, you great twat.” She squeezed his hand then let go of it, draping herself over the side of the bed to reach her bags. From the nearest one she pulled a brown paper parcel– Remus recognized it instantly as the one which had adorned their kitchen table since she had left.

 

“You never opened it,” she said, handing it to him. “Thank you for the gorgeous fountain pen, by the way. I shall pen many a groundbreaking law with it.”

 

Remus grinned as he peeled the tape of his parcel up at the corners. “That’s the hope.”

 

“Oh, Lupin, just rip into it. I’ve waited long enough for you to see this.” Lily elbowed him.

 

“Ow– busted lung here?” He rubbed at his ribs, and she stuck out her tongue.

 

“Fine.” He ripped off the paper to reveal a smooth leather cover. It wasn’t a book; it was far too sleek for that. He turned it over, puzzled, before realizing what it was and letting out a gasp.

 

“Lilyyyy,” he moaned. A reading tablet. “This is too much.”

 

“It’s as much a gift to myself as it is to you. This way, if you keep your school books on that thing, they won’t be piled up on my side of the sofa! Also, eBooks are cheaper than regular ones, so more organic groceries for me to pretend to cook with.” She smirked up at him.

 

Remus looked back down at her, tears forming behind his eyes. “This– this is wonderful.”

 

Lily kissed him on the nose. “Right,” she said. “I need a word with James, and Sirius has been peering in here every thirty seconds. Best give him his turn before he starts baying for your attention.”

 

She slid smoothly from the bed, grabbed one of her bags, and slipped from the room. Sirius ducked past as he entered, and shut the door behind him.

 

Remus took a moment to appreciate his boyfriend, caught as he was in a shaft of rare sunlight from the window. Lily had brought Sirius the change of clothes he had left at their apartment, and he was once more looking like himself. He had swept his dark hair into a loose bun on the back of his head, and the collar of his leather jacket was popped high in contrast to the plunge of his v-neck black shirt. The sun caught the bright grey of his irises, and had lit them almost to white.

 

Remus, heart pounding, cast around for something to say. “Where are the others?”

 

“Peter decided to duck home to his family, and last I checked, James was raiding a vending machine.” Sirius’s eyes were roving over his features, and Remus wondered for a moment what was going through his head.

 

“Lily just went to speak with him, so they’ll be occupied for a while.”

 

“Mmm,” Sirius hummed. He glanced down at the tablet still clutched in Remus’s grasp, and let out a low whistle. “Nice. Lily give it to you?”

 

Remus looked back down at the sleek object in his hands. He knew he would miss the sensory pleasure that came with reading a paper novel, but there was something to be said for how much lighter his bag would be with only this inside, and how much easier his commute would be on his joints. And besides, he handled enough physical books at his job.

 

Remus nodded. “Yeah. As much as I love my paper and ink, this will make my life so much easier.”

 

Sirius smiled, and Remus could have sworn that something like relief passed over his features. “So you’re not a complete traditionalist, then, when it comes to your literary accoutrements?”

 

Remus stared at him curiously. “Not entirely.”

 

Sirius crossed the room, and took his place on the edge of Remus’s bed. “Good.” From his coat he pulled a small rectangular box. “Here. Hope you’re not too tired of getting gifts.”

 

Remus felt his mouth pull into a line as guilt struck him once again. He hadn’t even gotten a gift for Sirius. It hadn’t even crossed the veritable hellscape that had been his mind.

 

“You’ll get me a late Christmas present, Moony. Don’t you dare worry about it.” Sirius squeezed his hand, then turned it palm up and placed the box into it.

 

Remus breathed through his nose for a moment, then opened it. Inside gleamed a little metal rectangle, covered in buttons and adorned with an LED screen. “Er…” Remus said, unsure of what exactly he was looking at.

 

“It’s… it’s a voice recorder.” Sirius’s tone was slightly apprehensive.

 

Remus looked up at him, puzzled.

 

Sirius cleared his throat. “Well, its purpose is twofold. First, you can read all sorts of lovely books out loud for me to listen to–”

 

“A selfless gift, then.” Remus grinned.

 

“–and I seem to remember you mentioning that you were writing a book. I thought that since sometimes your hands are too stiff to type, you might want another method for getting your story out, so that you don’t lose momentum when your Lupus acts up. And if you record with this, you won’t chew up memory by recording on your phone.” Sirius paused and took a breath, having neglected to do so throughout his entire monologue. Remus, meanwhile, watched him open-mouthed, head reeling from the amount of thought Sirius had put into this gift.

 

Sirius was looking tentatively at him now. “I know it’s not the Moleskine notebook and gnawed-upon fountain pen that you authors are so fond of, but I figured–”

 

But Sirius did not get to say what he had figured, for Remus had grabbed the front of his shirt, and his mouth was now busy doing other things.

 

***

 

“Potter.”

 

James jumped, nearly wrenching his arm from its socket as he quickly withdrew it from the vending machine he had been attempting to pickpocket. He stood, rubbing his shoulder and looking sheepish. “Hullo, Lily.”

 

“You may recall that I wished to speak with you?”

 

James nodded, apprehensive. “Listen, whatever it is, I’m sorry. Things got a little wild last night. I’m sure I can fix it, or pay for it, whichever you pre–” But then his voice became suddenly muffled as a soft, warm pair of lips connected with his own.

 

He froze, unsure suddenly of whether he had even woken up this morning, or if this was another dream from which he would be sorry to wake. In order to check, he moved his hand up to her face, where it connected with soft skin. He stroked it with his thumb, just to be sure that it was there, and felt it grow warmer under his touch. Lily leaned her cheek into his hand, mouth still at work on his. She pressed herself to him, then, and his back hit the vending machine with a rattling thud. She broke away, breathing hard.

 

“Nooooo,” James moaned, softly.

 

“What?” Lily looked shaken and a little flushed.

 

James coughed, seeming to realize that his utterance had been audible. “You… uh. You stopped.”

 

Lily reddened even further. “I, um– I just wanted to say… thanks.” Then she bent, picked up the bag which she had at some point dropped, and handed it to him. “For saving my friend on Christmas.”

 

“Oh, I– I didn’t–” He took a breath. “He’s my friend, too.”

 

Lily bit her lip, eyes bright. “Well, go on.” She gestured at the bag, blinking rapidly.

 

From it James pulled a beanie of a deep burgundy, knitted with a thick, soft wool. He turned it over and over as a grin spread over his face, then pulled it down over his mass of dark hair.

 

Lily blinked, and her flush deepened even further. She reached up and straightened it, then let her hands drift down to his chest. “It suits you.”

 

“Evans, did you make this for me?”

 

She glanced down at her feet. “Got a pair of needles for Christmas, and it was a long train ride.”

 

James laughed, and took her hand, and kissed her softly once more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Gift of Giving SMOOCHES am I right??? Heh
> 
> Tumblr: @vagueenthusiast
> 
> ALSO INSTAGRAM WOAH: @vagueenthusiast.art
> 
> We're starting to close in on the end (I think)! Thanks so much for reading this far <3


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